


Beauty Is In the Eye of the Beholder

by Nigaki



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Arthur Morgan Has Low Self-Esteem, Arthur becomes a celebrity, Arthur doesn't think he's beautiful, Chapter 4: Saint Denis (Red Dead Redemption 2), Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It's just a cute and happy story, Jealous John, M/M, Photography, a bunch of fangirling housewifes thinks different, fangirling, model arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 42,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25066963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaki/pseuds/Nigaki
Summary: While watching the post office in Saint Denis in preparation for the robbery, Arthur is approached by yet another weird photographer who offers him money for a photo session of an outlaw. It pays good and it surely won’t cause any trouble, right?
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan, Kieran Duffy/Mary-Beth Gaskill
Comments: 23
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I started something different as a gift for my wife! She dreamed that idea and it's too cute to resist so I wrote it down!

Arthur hated Saint Denis. It was too close to the swamps, too big, too hot, too loud, too bright. At night, he never could see as many stars as when he was camping in the wilderness. He always felt like he was suffocating when he was visiting. Probably because of all that smoke coming from the big factories. The whole city was filled with that horrible stench. He had no idea what they were burning to make such smell but it was nothing like the nice smell of a campfire.

But smoke wasn’t the only suffocating thing in this place. It was the people too. Rich, arrogant, self-absorbed, blind to the other side of the city where the poor could barely feed themselves because they had to work to feed the rich. He hated the crowds, the rush, people getting right under the hooves of his horse and then saying it’s his fault, he hated those damn trolleybuses or whatever it was. He would gladly burn Saint Denis to the ground if he had the chance.

Instead, he had to suffer inside it, because Dutch had a plan. Of course he had a plan, he always had one and Arthur was getting tired of it. Those plans were supposed to bring them closer to leaving this place but they only seemed to help the swamp to suck them in harder. Soon they won’t be able to leave at all, not alive at least.

Dutch’s plan was involving the post office which was also a local train station. Bronte gave them a tip about it and Dutch was excited. Arthur thought it was a trap but Dutch didn’t care what Arthur had to say lately.

Arthur sighed and took a drag of his fifth cigarette since he started sitting here two hours ago. There was nothing else to do while sitting opposite to the post office to watch it. He was supposed to check if there was really no police here, that it was safe to rob. It looked safe but he wasn’t inside yet and he didn’t really want to. He just wanted to get out of this place and either get back to camp or ride around somewhere where mosquitos wasn’t that nagging.

He slapped one when it sat on his neck, ready to suck out some blood, just like this city was draining the life from him. Even sitting was tiring in this place and he couldn’t even take a nap because he was supposed to keep watch. And he didn’t want to get robbed. He already met couple of people who tried, including that stupid brat working for Bronte. Little shit thought he could run but Arthur managed to catch him before he could escape god knows where with all his money and possession. He doubted it taught the kid anything, getting caught never taught Arthur anything when he was living on the streets. If anything, it only taught him to be more careful and stealthy.

So Arthur was stuck on his little post, bored out of his mind and uncomfortable with all those fancy dressed people walking around him and sometimes looking at him like they wanted to kick him out to the slums. His only joy in this place right now was his new cigarette card he found in newly bought pack. And it was a horse card too!

Well, it wasn’t the only joy, he was also reading to pass some time, taking a break every now and then to see people entering or leaving the post office. He was smart and before leaving to Saint Denis, he borrowed a book from Mary-Beth to read something different than philosophical nonsense by Evelyn Miller or something from Hosea. He also read two pamphlets he got in the city – one about chelonians and the other about some racist nonsense. He burnt it with a match when he stopped reading halfway through. Just like that one member of white hoods was burning in the forest one week ago when Arthur stumbled upon their little meeting. 

Now he was enjoying the book, Pride and Prejudice it was called. Mary-Beth really liked that book and said he need to read it. It was entertaining, he had to give it that. Arthur was only at the beginning but the plot was interesting so far so he was pretty sure he was going to read the whole thing eventually.

He was so invested he noticed someone standing near him only because that person casted a shadow on the page he was reading. If it was someone with another pamphlet, he was going to shot that person. Arthur looked up at a nervous looking man dressed in nice clothes and with a bowler on top of his head. The man looked harmless so he probably wasn’t there to rob Arthur or to tell him to get lost or something.

“Yeah?” Arthur asked the man, once again watching the man from head to toes. He obviously wasn’t a very rich person but he had money, that was sure. Arthur eyed a nice watch sticking from the man’s vest but quickly shifted his gaze to the man’s face

“Excuse me, sir,” the man finally spoke, tipping his bowler in greeting. “Are you an outlaw?”

Arthur was so surprised by this question he was just sitting there with mouth open for a few seconds while the man watched him intensely.

“Uh… no?”, he answered eventually. Who asks such questions? And what the hell are they expecting to hear? An honest answer?

The man waved his hand dismissively and chuckled embarrassed, sitting down next to Arthur without an invitation. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just looking for one and you look perfect,” the man explained himself and put a very fool looking bag on his lap. Arthur eyed him suspiciously and moved away a little.

“Thank you, I guess,” he said, uncomfortable. He closed his book and put it away to have a free hand, just in case. He kept it near his holster. “What you need an outlaw for? You’re a bounty hunter?”

They usually didn’t look like that but who knows, maybe society got to bounty hunters as well and now they were dressing like they were going to a party. 

“No, no, I’m a photographer,” the man said proudly and quickly added. “I take photos.”

Arthur snorted. Another clumsy and awkward photographer, just his luck. He wondered then if Albert was eaten by something finally.

“Yeah, I figured out that much.”

The train that arrived at Saint Denis station god knows when was whistling his departure. Arthur was supposed to keep an eye on trains but because of his book he completely missed this one. He watched it drive away while the passengers that left it were starting to walk out from the post office. Another delivery of rich buffoons.

“Lately, I’ve been fascinated with the old west.” Arthur completely forgot about the photographer. He looked at him again, listening to him, though he really wanted the man to leave so he could read his book in peace. “Outlaw, gunslingers, maidens to save!”

“Okay,” Arthur nodded with amusement.

Were all photographer just so eager to die photographing something they knew nothing about? He only met two so far but it was saying a lot. What next? Photographers going to war to take pictures?

“I want to portray the cowboys of the old west,” the man kept explaining, proving at the same time he really had no idea what he was talking about. He seemed very committed to that though, Arthur had to give him that. 

“Cowboys and outlaws are different things, mister,” he corrected the photographer who looked at him with wide eyes, like a little child who just found out how the big world works. “One are taking care of the cows and sheep. And sometimes each other during long lonely nights,” he added after a short consideration and smirked. “The other steal these cows and sheep.”

The photographer smiled at him widely and shook his head.

“Thank you for the correction, my knowledge about those time isn’t the best yet,” the man admitted with a hand on his heart. His cheeks were slightly flushed. “I must look like a fool to you, sir.”

“I’m used to weird photographers,” Arthur assured him and chuckled, remembering meeting Albert for the first time.

“Oh?”

“Never mind.” Arthur wasn’t going to talk about Albert and his adventures with wild animals now. “If you want to take pictures of gunslingers of the west, why not go there? There is plenty of gunslingers left there. Saint Denis is as far from the west as it can be.”

They should be heading there too, not push towards the east where nothing was how it should be. He missed the freedom the west was providing them for so many years but he feared that it was gone too. The civilization and progress was spreading like vines, it was only a matter of time till it would reach the far west were many gangs were thriving once. But it was still better to die in the dirty west that civilized east.

“Well, as much as I’m interested in the old west, it terrifies me,” the man admitted. Arthur wasn’t surprised at all, this was pretty much another Albert. If he didn’t know what Mr. Mason looked like, he could swear it was the same person. “I left New York for the first time in my life, I wouldn’t even know how to find an outlaw, not to mention convince him…”

“Or her.”

The man smiled and nodded.

“Or her, to not kill me long enough for me to take the picture.” He said and chuckled nervously, clearly embarrassed.

“Yes, outlaws aren’t the most friendly people.” This man was funny. Arthur was having fun listening to his excited mumbling and nervousness. “And yet you came to me.”

He was usually intimidating enough that people weren’t even coming at him but maybe the fact that he was reading a book softened him in other people’s eyes. After all, criminals often couldn’t read.

“Well, you look like an outlaw but there is also kindness beaming from you so I decided to take a shot,” the man explained, proud of his bravery. Arthur wanted to laugh but he stopped himself.

“I’m not kind, mister. Not at all.”

Just a day ago he beat a man to threaten him because the Mayor asked him to. Not to mentions that just two weeks ago he and John killed some grave robbers while working for Bronte. And in a few days, when they would be robbing the post office he was watching now, he would threaten some more people to get their money.

The photographer had no idea he was sitting next to an actual outlaw. And it would be better if it stays like that. The man wouldn’t be smiling like that if he only knew the truth. In fact, he would try to be as far from Arthur as possible.

“Well, I don’t know you, sir, so I won’t argue about that.” Thank god for that. Arthur never knew what to do with people telling him he was a good man. He wasn’t, why people were thinking that? Why were they lying? “I’m just saying you look very friendly and maybe you could help me with my photo session.”

“I’m not sure how I could help you. I’m not an outlaw, remember?”

The last place he wanted to be was in front of a camera. Apart from Albert tricking him that one time, he only ever had his photos taken with other gang members, never alone. And that one time with Mary. He doesn't even have that photo anymore.

“Oh but you look perfect, sir, just perfect!” the man exclaimed and after putting his bag on the ground he jumped from the bench to stand in front of very confused Arthur. He didn’t like how the man was watching him. It wasn’t weird or creepy, just very intense and full of appreciation. He only liked John looking at him like that. “That gun belt? Magnificent!”

His what? Arthur looked at the belt. It was black, with silver buckle and some dull spikes on the whole length. He kept some bullets in it to have an easy access to them during gunfights. It was nice looking but it wasn’t anything fancy. Same with holster. It had some pretty floral patterns on it but there was no gold or expensive decorations on it. He only bought it because it was black and looked good.

“A trapper made it for me,” he informed the photographer who was now eyeing the revolver in the holster. Now that was a pretty thing with its gold engravings and pearl handle with a deer carved on it. He had a second one like that with a wolf but he left it at camp, feeling there was no need for a second gun.

For a moment, Arthur was sure the man was going to grab the gun to have a closer look but he was satisfied with just looking and when he was done admiring the gun, his sparkling eyes shifted up.

“That jacket?” the man gasped. Arthur was feeling uncomfortable again. No one ever paid so much attention to what he wore. Except for John but that was understandable. “It screams west!”

Arthur didn’t know how to react to that. He didn’t even know what was that supposed to mean.

“If you say so,” he said uncertain, watching the photographer getting more and more exciting. It was kind of scary. It was just his old, worn-out yellow jacket. He didn’t even bought it in the west, they were in Kansas then.

Thankfully, the man composed himself again very quickly and stopped being weird. He took few deep breaths to calm himself before he spoke again.

“I have a proposition for you, kind sir.” Arthur raised one eyebrow at him and hesitantly took a business card from the man who practically shoved it in his face. “Here’s my card, I’m currently working from my hotel room, if you’re willing, come at any time or send a telegraph and we can make an appointment.”

“Appointment for what?” he asked confused. What the hell was going on?

“For a photoshoot!” Couple of people looked into their direction. Arthur cringed and lowered his hat to hide at least a little bit. “I want to take photos of an outlaw. Oh, do you have more clothes?” Arthur was taken aback by the sudden change of the subject. “Or do I have to buy some? I know nothing about outlaw’s fashion but I will try my best.”

“Hold on, mister, I ain’t agreed to anything yet.” Arthur stood up startled but mostly confused. He looked at the card in his hand and then at the photographer who was grinning at him, beaming with excitement. “And what the hell are you even talking about? You want to have a photo of an outlaw but you’re going to stage it?”

Sure, talking to an outlaw was hard and dangerous, he knew that himself because he had to kill three of them for photos of their dead bodies and the fourth one he had to convince by fighting by her side. It wasn’t a job for clueless photographers but what photographer wanted their photo staged?

“Nobody will know, outlaws are legends like Greek heroes or King Arthur.” Arthur couldn’t argue with that. Gunslingers were dying, elusive like unicorns but less pure, much less, hunted like some rare species of animals. There was no place for people like them in this new world. If only Dutch could see that too. “You saw it yourself, I can’t tell a difference between an outlaw and a cowboy and common people, especially those in the big cities can’t either. When people will see this photo shoot, they won’t know it’s staged.”

“Except the law that have my mugshot,” Arthur murmured under his breath.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” he dismissed the man. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

“You sure?” The man was trying to keep his disappointment in check. “You would be a perfect model. You have a very handsome face.” Arthur blushed at that but the photographer was so invested in himself he didn’t notice. “You would catch people’s eyes as anyone. We can first take your photos as an outlaw and then maybe as a… a real cowboy! Or someone coming from family of old money! Or a simple rancher, that would be pretty. Do you own a horse? We could perhaps take a photo of you on a horse!”

And he was excited again, just what Arthur needed right now, drawing all the attention to them again.

“Listen, mister…”

“Of course I would pay you for your work, haha!” the man interrupted him but Arthur didn’t mind. Money? “Two dollars for each photo, usually I take around ten during every photoshoot.”

“How much did you say?” Arthur questioned, sure he heard it wrong.

“That would be around twenty, twenty five dollars for a photoshoot.” Arthur couldn’t tell but he was sure his eyes sparkled with interest. That much money just for taking a couple of photos? “Plus a small part from the sales, I’m going to buy a page in the press of the state of Lemoyne and other states around. Even people in Blackwater will see you!”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Great.” Getting his photo taken while he was wanted in so many places wasn’t a good idea. But robbing a post office in the city controlled by some Italian mobster and full of police wasn’t either and that didn’t stop Dutch. It was still safer than robbing people. “Twenty five dollars.”

That was a lot of money. Less than what they’d get from the post office but a couple of photoshoots like that and Arthur would be able to bring couple of hundreds to the camp and leave some for himself as well. He and John were saving money just in case to have something when they would have to run.

“Or more,” the man said nonchalantly. And very honest. “I say you can earn close to thirty from photoshoots and parts of the sales.”

Thirty sounded even more interesting. It almost seemed unreal that he would get so much money for… what would he be doing?

“And what would I have to do exactly?”

“Just pose and hold still for a moment or two. Then we would change clothes or just the pose and I would take another picture. Simple as that.”

That simple? It had to be a dream. Or a trap. Or both. Who was paying so much money for a couple of photos? Who would even want to look at the photo of an outlaw, or a rancher or anyone else? It was so strange but the photographer sounded very confident and sure about his plan. Arthur had no idea why something like that could possibly bring any money but he knew for years now that people were strange. Maybe they actually liked looking at strangers dressed as someone they were not.

“Okay, we have a deal.”

He offered his hand to the photographer who shook it so hard Arthur felt like it was going to fall off. He smiled nervously at very excited man who was almost jumping in place. Why was he meeting all the weird people in this town?

“Excellent!”

“But no giving my real name,” Arthur demanded. The last thing he wanted was to have his name printed in every newspaper on the east coast.

“Of course,” the man promised him. “You have my card, when can you meet me for a first photoshoot?”

“Tomorrow?”

He should be free, Dutch wouldn’t ask him to watch the post office again, it would be pointless to do it two days in a row.

“Perfect, tomorrow at noon, we’ll figure out the first photo shoot!” The man grabbed his bag and started running of somewhere, probably to his hotel, leaving stunned Arthur alone. But then the man turned around and with a stupid grin returned. “Oh, where are my manners. Jeremy Heathfield.”

Arthur knew that already, he read the card.

“Arthur Morgan,” he said back and shook hands with the man again.

“Nice to meet you!”

And he was gone, this time for good. Arthur looked at the card again, not very sure anymore about what he just agreed to. He was never photographed the way Heathfield wanted to. He was sure it was going to be awkward and he would only make a fool of himself with his lack of knowledge about photography.

He could still bail on the man. Just never meet with him and they would probably never stumble upon each other ever again. He was tempted to do it but all the money he could get for that… Was being photographed, printed in a paper for hundreds to see worth all the money?

Probably not. It was stupid and dangerous, it could lead Pinkertons to them. Or O’driscolls, or anyone really. But… Didn’t everyone already knew where to look for them? Pinkertons were constantly on their tails, Colm was a threat for years now and bounty hunters wouldn’t know where to look exactly, the photos would be printed all over Lemoyne and West Elizabeth, they would never knew it was in Saint Denis where Arthur was having his photos taken.

Bounty hunter weren’t even reading papers, all they read was wanted posters and those printing them weren’t taking information from newspapers. Pinkertons probably had other ways to chase them too, he should be safe, the gang should be safe and most importantly, he would get money for it. He was still sure it wasn’t for him, he was feeling weird around cameras but he could survive a couple of photoshoots.

Arthur put the card into the satchel, sat on the bench again and returned to his book, reading and not bothering with watching the post office till it was time to get back. He told Dutch the place looked safe enough and also shared his doubts with him about this plan again. Dutch spoke to him about faith for some time before he believed Arthur was convinced, only then he left him in his room.

Arthur was alone till midnight, that’s when John sneaked not only into the room, but also under the covers and helped Arthur relax after a crazy day. He even forgot about the whole proposition till the next day when he noticed it was getting close to noon and he should be going.

He told everyone he was going for a ride and headed to Saint Denis. He didn’t know what to expect at the hotel when he arrived. After he left the horse in the stable, he walked to the address he was given and for a few minutes just stood uncomfortably in front of the building.

“To hell with it,” he growled and entered the hotel with as much confidence as he could force out of himself.

The man behind the counter asked if he wanted to rent a room. Arthur shook his head and told the man he was there to meet with someone and gave the room number. The man didn’t make any trouble and pointed Arthur in the direction. Second floor, room fourteen.

His knees felt weak when he was climbing the stairs. Why was he so nervous? He was going to take some photos, not sleep with a lady for the first time. But no matter how many times he reminded himself it’s nothing dangerous, he was still nervous. Maybe having his photo taken wouldn’t hurt but it would put him on display and while he wasn’t necessarily shy, he didn’t like much attention, he liked to keep to himself most of the time. 

He knocked on the right door after he stood in front of them for some time just like in front of the hotel. Heathfield opened it for him and grinned happily. Arthur just wanted to bolt which was very unusually for him. He wasn’t the type of person that got scared easily but now he was terrified of something that couldn’t even hurt him. Not directly at least.

“I’m so glad you came, Mr. Morgan,” Heathfield greeted him and allowed him to enter. Arthur felt trapped when he heard door closing behind him. They weren’t locked, so that was good. “I got everything ready as you can see!”

He could. The camera was standing in the middle of the room, Arthur moved to the side to not be directly in front of it. He was already lost, was he supposed to say or do something? He would really appreciate if Heathfield could tell him what to do but the photographer was putting the finishing touch to the room. Were they going to take a photoshoot here?

“Um, I didn’t take any clothes with me,” Arthur informed the man. He completely forgot, he actually had yesterday’s clothes on.

“Oh, that’s fine, we’re going for an outlaw look,” the man assured him with a warm smile.

It didn’t calm Arthur at all. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, looking around again.

“You know, uh… This room doesn’t fit what you have in mind.”

Heathfield froze while moving some glasses on the table.

“It’s not?”

God, this man knew nothing about outlaws.

“We, simple folks I mean,” he corrected himself quickly before he could slip who he was. “Can’t really afford such rooms.”

Well, they could, but why should they?

“I thought outlaws have money. From all the robbing.”

“They have, but they don’t spend it on hotel rooms like that. You would sooner find an outlaw sleeping in a barn than here. Saint Denis isn’t the best background for outlaws.”

While there were cowboys and ranchers here, they were sticking out like a sore thumb on the streets.

“You’re right, what was I thinking?” Heathfield laughed at his own stupidity. “Do you know a place where the photoshoot would work?”

“Anywhere outside of town would be good,” he answered, eager to be out of this room and be somewhere where he would feel more comfortable. Nature was always calming to him.

“Lead the way then.”

Arthur waited for Heathfield to pack his camera and put on a jacket and bowler. They went to get their horses from the stable and Arthur lead them to the place that would be close enough to not ride for too long, but far enough that it would fit the photo shoot better.

“So what you do for a living, Mr. Morgan, if I may ask?”

Arthur was afraid that question would be asked eventually.

“I’m a bounty hunter.”

“Really?” Heathfield asked amazed. “No wonder you know about outlaws so much. You probably caught a lot of them.”

“I’m not the best at it.”

“Must be dangerous.”

Arthur was glad the man wasn’t asking any personal questions.

“All the time,” he admitted, hoping that mixing lies with truth will trick Heathfield. “But someone has to do it.”

“I suppose.”

Arthur lead them to Grey’s fields, just outside of town. There was a spot there that wasn’t patrolled and the fence, tobacco fields and the trees growing around would be a perfect scenery for the photoshoot, or Arthur thought so, he knew nothing about photography but Heathfield loved the place, babbling about how perfect it was the whole time he was preparing his camera.

Arthur was waiting at the side, leaning over the fence and smoking to calm his nerves. He was still unsure if he was doing the right thing, it wasn’t too late to back out yet. But he kind of wanted to do it and see how the photos would turn out.

He was nervous not only because it was something new, but because anyone from the gang could ride this way at any time, they were standing just at the side of the road, they weren’t even hidden. One traveler looked at them funny when he was passing by but both of them ignored him. Arthur was sure Heathfield didn’t even notice.

At this point, Arthur was waiting for a sign to begin so he could finally learn what being a model is all about. That’s why he was surprised when the camera suddenly went off with a hiss and a loud click that scared the birds from the trees.

“The hell?” Arthur looked at Heathfield who was once again doing something with his camera. Arthur even thought he imagined the photo being taken, because everything looked the same it was just few seconds earlier when he had his eye on the photographer. Everything except smoke that was still coming from the camera. “I didn’t do anything.”

“No need to, you were perfect just standing there,” Heathfield explained and smiled at him before hiding behind the camera again.

Arthur frowned. 

“I was just smoking,” he pointed out. Why was photography so confusing?

“I know.” Why were photographers so confusing?

“It wasn’t something only outlaws do,” Arthur kept probing. He was probably acting like a fool.

“We’ll come to that,” Heathfield promised him and finally looked at him with understanding eyes. “I just thought you smoking was a nice photo. You looked natural, exactly what I need. Maybe you weren't acting like an outlaw but who would want to look at a man pointing his gun all the time?”

“I don’t understand,” Arthur admitted, feeling like a moron. He was expecting Heathfield to laugh at him but he didn’t.

“It’s simple,” he started explaining again. “The photoshoot is about an outlaw, but one photo depicting him like one is all we need. Outlaws are humans too. A little twisted, some surely evil but still human and not matter how much the law portray them as monster, they’re just like you and me. They don’t walk with their guns out all the time.” Heathfield laughed to put some lighter mood. “But you’re a bounty hunter, you probably see them only with guns so I understand it can be a little confusing.”

He should’ve known that, he was an outlaw after all and his life wasn’t revolving only around robbing people. Being an outlaw was more than that. It was riding free without any care, it was coming to towns like any other person, spending time with fellow gang members, drinking, smoking, laughing, crying. He knew all that but he never met a person who knew that too. He expected Heathfield to make him act like some ruthless killer in front of camera, looking as dangerous as he could, not acting like a human being that sometimes just want to smoke while leaning against the fence.

“So… How do you want me next?” Arthur asked. Heathfield grinned and moved his camera to the right.

“If you could look at the fields it would be perfect,” the man suggested. “Keep the smoke but hold it with your mouth, maybe hanging loosely between lips?” Arthur did just that, just like he expected, feeling uncomfortable with being moved like some statue. “Cross your arms, lean against the fence, yes, like that.”

It was stupid, awkward. He was blushing and his heart was hammering. He wanted to take a long drag of his cigarette but he made himself keep still for the photo. That’s all he needed to do, no reason to get nervous, Heathfield was taking care of everything.

“Hat a little higher?” Arthur pushed it up a little, uncovering his eyes he desperately wanted to hide. Heathfield moved again to have a better angel and to be closer, almost up to his face. Arthur watched him with the corner of his eye anxiously, wanting to stop this stupid session. He was in that position many times before, he always liked it but now, being told to do it, it was like a nightmare. He gritted his teeth and went stiff, reminding himself it’s just a simple job. “I know it’s probably a little intimidating for you but try to relax?”

“How?” he asked with a tense voice.

“Think about something soothing,” the man suggested and got behind the camera. “I’ll be ready so just try to relax.”

Easier said than done, Heathfield wasn’t the one being watched like some painting in the gallery. They were alone and yet Arthur felt like being watched by dozens of people. He wanted to end this and never look at the camera again but he didn’t want to bail now, not when they already took one photo. He knew he could do it, he just needed to relax, think of something calming.

Something calming. A fishing trip. Stargazing with John. Just John.

He hoped he didn’t smile but if he did, Heathfield didn’t mind and just took the photo, telling Arthur he did great.

“Can you stay in that pose, please?” the man asked when Arthur wanted to move. “I want to take the photo of the full body.”

“Sure.”

It was better than the photo of just a face that Heathfield just took.

Arthur had to wait a little but it was easier now when he knew how to distract himself. He was pretending he was here alone and just enjoying the day. He watched Grey’s workers in the distance, listened to birds above his heads and smelled the scent of spring.

When he was approaching the whole job like that, it was actually nice.

“Can you cross your legs too?”

He did that automatically, not giving that request many thoughts, instead treating it like it came from his own head because he wanted to give on of the legs some rest.

“Expose the holster.”

Arthur pushed the jacket to the side and returned his hand to its place. Heathfield murmured something but it was like a buzz to Arthur’s ears, he was in his own head right now, thinking of the day he got Boadicea. The hiss and familiar click told him the photo was once again done. He waited a little to make sure Heathfield was done with this pose.

“Excellent,” he said to Arthur when he turned to him. “You’re a natural.”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing,” Arthur admitted abashed and rubbed at his neck. All this nerves made him sweaty. 

“You can always help me with some suggestions,” the man offered.

“Oh, I’m not an expert,” Arthur refused immediately. He didn’t want to say something stupid that wouldn’t look good on a photo.

“Just try. I’ll take care of staged poses.”

Somehow, Heathfield’s positive attitude was encouraging. While the photographer was getting the camera ready for another photo, Arthur thought of another pose but his mind was blank. What would he do if he was here on his own to relax?

During travels, when he was tired but didn’t want to set up a camp yet, he would usually just take a short break under some tree or a rock to have some shadow. Arthur turned to one of the trees and walked to it, feeling Heathfield watching him. He ignored it and just sat down, stiff at first but then he started thinking about nice things again and he relaxed, his body moving almost on its own into a more comfortable position.

He leaned against the tree, covered his eyes with the hat, bend one leg in the knee and propped a hand with a smoke on it, other laying loosely on his belly.

“Told you you’re natural,” Heathfield whispered, as if Arthur was really asleep.

Arthur couldn’t help but smiled shyly. He didn’t do anything, all he did was sit down and that was it but apparently it was enough. The fourth photo was taken and they took a small break. Arthur shared his waterskin with Heathfield who immediately suggested using it for the next photo.

“That really shows you came from the west,” the man explained. “People use waterskins in the west?”

Arthur snorted. “That’s why I have it.”

Posing with waterskin wasn’t as hard as Arthur thought it would. He had to exaggerate a little, it took them couple of minutes to find the perfect angel and perfect pose but they finally did it. With waterskin just barely touching his lips, Arthur stood near the tree and stared into the camera when Heathfield asked him to, looking as comfortable as he could while not being able to pretend he was alone anymore. He could see the camera and the photographer behind it, but it wasn’t the first photo so he was more relaxed than the first time.

This was a staged photo so Arthur was doing everything Heathfield asked him too. It wasn’t time for improvisation from a clueless outlaw.

“Part your lips a little, yeah, like that.” That part was uncomfortable. If any other man than John would told him that, he would punch him, but Heathfield was completely focused on his work, it was art for him, nothing else so Arthur felt surprisingly comfortable, even when he was told to uncover some more collarbone.

He couldn’t move at all when Heathfield was taking a photo, he couldn’t blink, he even stopped breathing to make sure the photo would look perfect. They took two photos of that pose so Arthur had to be still for two or three minutes to not ruin it.

“Just to be sure,” Heathfield explained the inconveniences. “Let’s move to the theme of the photoshoot. Can you take off your jacket?” Arthur shrugged his shoulder and undressed, putting the jacket on the saddle of his horse. “Roll up your sleeves and take your hat of, hold it with both hands in front of you.”

“Like away from the body?”

“No, no, close.” Arthur did everything but Heathfield wasn’t satisfied yet. “If you could prop your leg on the tree? Yeah, perfect. And smile. Not like a friendly smile, you’re a bad outlaw who just robbed someone.”

Arthur frowned, not knowing how to do that. He could be smug but he never did that on commend. Then again, nothing he was doing right now was ever done on commend by him. Moving his body in right positions was easier but pulling a certain emotion on his face couldn’t be that much harder.

He helped himself by thinking about something that made him smug before, like winning a sure hand in poker when everybody around the table was sure he was bluffing. He didn’t know how he looked back then, but he remembered he smiled and he was very proud at that moment.

The corner of his lips moved up and formed a smirk Heathfield was looking for. Another photo taken.

“Keep that smile and let’s see how that pose will look with a gun.” When Heathfield was ready for another photo, Arthur pulled his revolver from the holster and just held it with his hand down. An idea appeared in his head then and before the photo was taken, he leaned his head a little to the back and to the side to give a more cocky look. He had no idea where that thought came from but he wanted to make the photo better and giving his own input instead of just doing what he was told was interesting, entertaining even. “Oh, this is perfect, keep it up,” Heathfield praised him and Arthur felt really proud in that moment. 

They did three more photos, just like Heathfield said he was usually doing. Now that Arthur felt more comfortable he was sharing more ideas with the photographer who was happy to hear everything Arthur was proposing to him. Because of that they took a lot of time to prepare for the next photo but Heathfield assured him it would be worth it.

Arthur didn’t mind the additional time. He was having fun posing, which was weird because he was never fond of photos. When the gang was taking some, it was never anything serious, just a group photo to remember people that have been in the gang but died at some point or just left. Everyone was just standing or sitting in certain places, keeping still, not even smiling and that was it. The photo was done, so they were done.

Now he was experimenting with poses and faces, thinking of best ways to show his clothes, his body, the certain expression. It was a lot of work but Arthur liked working and this one particular was very pleasant. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he had so much fun outside of the gang.

They ended up with a photo of him holding his jacket over his shoulder, looking like he was walking while in reality Arthur had to keep very still with his leg frozen in mid step. It was hard to do, he lost his balance couple of times but the finally did it.

He posed with his gun on his finger, like he was doing the trick but the camera couldn’t catch the movement so he just held the revolver hanging on the tip of his index finger, once again looking smug.

The final photo was easy, it was just him wiping the sweat from his forehead while holding his hat. Heathfield was very pleased with everything and said he couldn’t wait to see how the photos turned out, but he was already sure everything went perfect. 

Arthur wasn’t so sure of that but he wasn’t the photographer to question that so he said nothing but on the inside, he was buzzing with excitement. His heart was still hammering but this time it wasn’t from nerves. He too couldn’t wait to see the photos, he could barely stop himself from grinning stupidly. He asked when he could see them.

“I should be done in two or three days,” Heathfield told him while packing his camera and, unlike Arthur, who was feeling foolish for liking the whole thing so much, the man was smiling widely. “Better come after three, they will certainly be ready then.”

“Okay, three days,” Arthur repeated, putting his jacket back on. “And what about my payment?”

He almost forgot about it because of all that fun.

“Half now, for the work.” Heathfield fished out a wallet from his saddle bag and gave Arthur ten dollars. “The other half after I make sure the photos aren’t messed up, we will have to do them again then but I’m sure they’re fine.”

“If you say so, Mr. Heathfield.”

“Just Jeremy,” the man asked and they both shook hands.

“Okay, Jeremy.” Arthur finally found the courage to smile. “It was nice working with you.”

“Hopefully we can do it again, you were perfect, Mr. Morgan, I assure you.” Arthur bowed his head and slid the hat over his eyes. “Your ideas were great, usually my models just do what I tell them but your additions were amazing. I would’ve never came up with them.”

“It was nothing really, I’m not an expert.”

“Maybe you’re not an expert in photography, but you sure know how to pose.” Jeremy smiled at him again and mounted his horse. “I’ll return to my hotel now. I need to find a studio to develop those photos. Have a good day, Mr. Morgan, and see you in three days. Hopefully for another session.”

“Be well,” Arthur said back and tipped his hat at the man who rode off towards Saint Denis.

With a smile, Arthur mounted as well and headed to the camp, wondering if he should tell anyone about it, John at least. He decided against it, he didn’t want to be laughed at, the others would surely think it was a silly job. He would keep it for himself for now and just share his money. Hopefully no one would buy a newspaper with his photos when it would come out.

It was still the middle of the day when he arrived, everyone was walking around busy with something. Arthur dismounted and took care of his horse for almost an hour before he joined the others. First thing he did was put a lot of stew in his bowl and sit with it by the main fire where Javier and Tilly were already sitting.

“You’re in a good mood,” the latter noticed, sharpening his knife.

Arthur blushed slightly and grunted in respond but didn’t stop smiling lightly.

“I didn’t even know you were capable of smiling like that,” Tilly said and chuckled while working on sewing one of Dutch’s fancy shirts.

“Sure he is.” Arthur barely stopped himself from smiling even wider when he heard John, who sat next to him with a beer bottle in his hand. Jack was playing nearby, John was probably keeping an eye on him while Abigail had some free time. “He acts mean and sour on the outside but in the inside he’s the softest man you’ll ever know.”

John shoved him slightly with his elbow and winked at him before putting the bottle to his lips to drink while the others laughed. Arthur frowned at him and tipped the bottle in John’s hold, causing the beer to spill all over his chest and lap.

“What the hell, Morgan?!”

John looked at him angry and eyed the bowl of stew in his hold.

“Don’t ever think about it, Marston or I’ll throw you in the swamp,” Arthur warned him.

John was fuming for a few more seconds before he decided it was not worth it and backed off from a fight. He had to listen to some teasing about being clumsy from Javier and Tilly but those two left soon after, leaving John and Arthur alone. Almost, Jack was digging in the fire with the stick right next to them.

“So what put you in a good mood?” John asked curiously and carefully took a sip of his beer, watching Arthur all the time to make sure he wouldn’t tip his beer again.

Arthur snorted at his paranoia. “Just a good day, you know?”

“Sure hope some other man wasn’t involved in making you happy,” John said with a low voice, jealousy practically oozing from him. “That’s my job.”

“You accuse me of being unfaithful?” Arthur asked jokingly. John rolled his eyes, showing he wasn’t really thinking he was being cheated on. But the possessiveness in his voice was real for sure. “Just had a nice day far from Saint Denis, that’s all. After a whole day there, riding around was like heaven.”

“Yeah,” John agreed and sniffed at his vest. “Ugh, I still stink of that town, and I wasn’t there for three days.”

“That’s not Saint Denis, that’s you, because you haven’t bathed in a week!”

“I bathed last night!”

“Splashing some water under your armpits and on your dick is not a bath, Marston.”

“But it still came in handy last night,” John noticed and grinned slyly. Arthur couldn’t help but laugh, surprising Jack who look at him strange before he decided he had enough of playing with the fire and squeezed on the log between his father and uncle.

“It did,” Arthur admitted, wrapping an arm around Jack and ruffling his hair. The kid ran off as fast as he arrived. Arthur felt almost guilty for chasing him away but he really wanted to spend some time with his Pa who was smiling warmly. “Want to go somewhere more private?”

“Sure, but we’ll need to take Jack with us,” John noticed. Ever since they got Jack back from Bronte, John was trying to spend as much time as he could with his son, but Arthur saw in his eyes that he would rather not take the boy with them. Arthur would like that too.

“Let’s see if one of the girls can watch him for a while,” Arthur suggested.

John quickly finished his beer and went for another two for them both while Arthur, still eating, took Jack and lead him to Mary-Beth who was happy to keep an eye on him for a while. She even said she could put him to bed if John wouldn’t be back before that. Which was possible, they were always losing track of time when they were together.

They talked about Mary-Beth’s book a little, Arthur didn’t have time to read it today but he admitted he liked it so far.

John came back with more than just a beer, he also got a deck of card and ready like that, they retrieved to the old fishing house right by the swamp. They played some poker, drank their beers and talked about the future and the present.

They ended the night with kissing for a while without a care in world. With the last kisses, when they wished each other good night, Arthur had to admit it was one of the best days since they made camp in Shady Belle. For a whole day he wasn’t scared of anything happening to him or those he loved. He wished every day could be like that and maybe someday it really could be. With the money he earned today and the one he could earn even more, John and Arthur could have their chance at living.

It was a good decision to take this job.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a long chapter, guys, I don't know how it happened :)

It wasn’t a good day.

Arthur groaned when he massaged his sore neck. He nearly broke that damn thing, why the hell did he think staying in a racing trolleybus was a smarter idea than jumping off it? And he left his horse in the city, god damn it! The same city that was now full of furious police officers collecting bodies of their friends that Arthur, Dutch and Lenny left behind after a failed robbery.

“A trap,” Arthur hissed through gritted teeth and furiously cleaned his face from dirt and some blood. He hit his head during the crash but not as hard as Dutch. “I knew it was a fucking trap!”

He had a bad feeling the whole morning when they were getting ready. Dutch was excited about the big money Senior Bronte promised them, Lenny was optimistic as always, eager to impress the boss. Arthur just hoped that whatever they would find in the post office, it wouldn’t be something that would kill them. 

Of course it turned out to be a set up. Which crime lord would happily let some dirty tramps enter his territory and share the money with them? Arthur couldn’t believe Dutch believed Bronte and almost got them killed. There was no reason to risk that much. They needed money but Arthur was working on it. What he got from a photoshoot wasn’t much but it was still more than what they got from the post office.

Of course Dutch didn’t know about Arthur’s second job but still, trusting a slimy stranger like that was a fool move. Dutch was never like that before but ever since they descended from the mountains, the man started to slip up, now more often than ever and it was getting dangerous.

Everyone was concerned with that job, Hosea tried to convince Dutch to leave the post office and focus on a bank instead. John discreetly asked if he could join so they would have more fire power. Dutch calmly explained to Hosea that everything was going to be fine because ‘Arthur watched the post office, it’s fine, my friend!’. To John he just said to take care of his son and stop worrying about anything else.

They were right to worry. The whole police knew about the robbery and Arthur was pretty damn sure it wasn’t because someone saw him outside the post office the other day. If anything, it only helped Bronte confirm what was going to happen when he sold them out to the law. Arrogant, Italian cockroach. Arthur wanted to put a bullet through his head but Bronte wasn’t even worth it.

A little bit cleaner but still just as pissed as he was ever since Lenny said there was police approaching, Arthur stood up and moved away from the shore, happy that no alligator ate him. They were having so much bad luck lately that he was actually surprised he still had a whole face.

No, he couldn’t think of it that way. That would mean everything was fine while it wasn’t. It wasn't bad luck, they were just sloppy. Sloppy, not careful enough, making decisions like fools. They could only blame themselves for losing Sean, Jack's kidnapping and almost getting killed today. They could lose someone else if they continue with this reckless behavior. If it was possible to even stop at this point. They were still without money, Dutch would want to rob that bank now and Arthur had a feeling it wouldn’t end like the bank robbery in Valentine. Bronte wouldn’t allow that.

He needed to get John, himself and anyone else who wanted to go out before it would be too late. He really hoped the photos turned out great because he needed the money fast, enough to be able to live with John somewhere on their own, maybe leave the state, get back to the west like they should’ve after Blackwater.

Why did they run to the Grizzlies when they had a wild country behind their back, with the gang’s previous hideouts scattered around and ready to use?

It took Arthur over an hour to get back to camp on foot. When he send Lenny and Dutch away, he wanted some peace to think, now it seemed like a stupid decision. Arthur never complained about walking long distances but after that front flip he did when they crashed the trolleybus, his legs felt like they were made out of cotton and despite getting hit in the head lighter than Dutch, who was very pale and looked like he couldn’t see properly, Arthur still swayed slightly on his legs.

It was fine by the time he reached camp but he still needed to lay down. He was too tired to even shout at Javier and tell him who is coming. To be honest, he would happily let his friend shoot him, he just wanted some goddamn peace, not to worry if he’d survive to the other day. Unfortunately, Javier recognized him and welcomed him cheerfully.

Arthur only grumbled something in return and entered the camp, welcomed by more people. He was just going to open the door to the house and get inside when it was opened for him and he was crushed in a hold of a very worried John.

“You bastard, don’t do things like that,” John said into his neck where he hid his face.

Arthur raised his arms and returned the hug, leading them into the house so nobody could see. He wasn’t ashamed, he had the right to hug his closest friend but something clearly shook John and nobody else had to see it. Only the Reverend was inside but he was passed out drunk so Arthur wasn’t bothered by him.

“Things like what?” Arthur asked his lover, gently stroking his back. He would kill for an hour or two of lying in bed with John right now.

“I thought Colm got you again. Or the Pinkertons.”

Oh, those things.

John uncurled from around him and looked him into the eyes, cupping Arthur’s face with his face and kissing him soundly without any warning. Arthur groaned into the kiss and opened his mouth when John probed it with his tongue, asking for entrance. They shivered when their tongues touched and played together for a moment.

John grabbed Arthur by the vest and shoved him against the wall, lightly beginning his head against it. Normally Arthur would welcome the pain and the aggression but he hit exactly the same place his head had met the ground not so long ago and pain, instead of arousing him like always, only made him want to shoot his brains out.

He quickly moved his head to the side, ending the kiss abruptly. John watched him surprised before he noticed the pain on his face and panicked.

“Oh shit,” he cursed and gently moved Arthur away from the wall, leading him to the old couch in the front room. He sat Arthur down and took a seat beside him, wanting to see the wound right away. “Shit, Arthur, what exactly happened?”

“They didn’t tell you?” He hissed again when John touched the wound. When the younger man took back his hand, there was blood on his fingertips. Arthur didn’t even know he was bleeding this whole time.

“Dutch was barely conscious, Susan told him to go to bed, he’s sleeping right now, Hosea is with him,” John explained, still watching the wound but carefully this time, not touching it. Arthur could sense the worry in his voice while he was talking.

“What about Lenny?”

The kid ended without a scratch, lucky bastard.

“He was so excited after the job he talked about everything but not what was important,” John answered fondly. “From what I understood you rode a trolleybus and it crashed but I didn't believe something like this happened. Kid started spending too much time with Hosea, he starts lying like him.”

“He didn’t lie, that really happened,” Arthur confirmed, grimacing when John tugged at some hair that was tied together with blood. John’s hands froze. “Not my smartest moment.”

“That was your idea?” The younger man shifted so they could look at each other. John was furious. “Are you insane? You wanted to die?”

“It wasn’t my idea to get inside,” Arthur explained himself. “And it’s not like I tried to crash that damn thing, it broke!”

“Sure.”

“It did!”

“Hargh!”

They both looked at the passed out Reverend who suddenly made some weird sound before he fell into unconsciousness again like nothing even happened. Arthur and John giggled.

“Could use some of his morphine right now,” Arthur mumbled, carefully resting his head on the back of the couch.

“Absolutely not, I don’t want you to get addicted like Swanson.” John patted Arthur’s knee and stood up with one of his hands holding Arthur’s. “I can bring you some cough syrup with heroin.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he mumbled again, covering his eyes with his hand, ignoring John’s tugging at the other. “What do you want? Go get my syrup, boy.”

“First let’s get you to bed.”

“With you? Always,” Arthur teased and let himself be lifted.

“Jesus, you’re heavy,” John groaned with struggle.

“You don’t complain when I lay on you.”

“Well, you’re not doing it right now.” John made sure he could stand straight before he even dared moving away. “You good to go upstairs on your own? I’ll bring some water to clean the wound and bandage it.”

“No bandage, I’ll be fine.” He needed his head as it was, he had a photo session tomorrow. God, how he was going to sneak into town after what they did today? Nobody saw his face hopefully but he couldn’t be sure.

“Arthur…”

“I didn’t even feel the bleeding, so it’s not big.”

“Dutch looked really bad, I think I heard him throwing up once, I don’t want you to get this bad too,” John insisted, fear practically oozing from him.

Arthur sighed. He could wear that bandage for a day and take it off tomorrow before the session.

“Fine,” he agreed and John smiled at him. “Go for my syrup, my head is starting to hurt a lot.”

“I’ll be right back,” John promised and kissed Arthur on the cheek before he left the house.

Tiredly, Arthur climbed the stairs and entered his room, laying on the bed right away. John was going to clean the wound so Arthur laid on his stomach and closed his eyes. Sleep should make him feel better, he really couldn’t allow himself to miss the meeting with Jeremy. After today he needed money more than before and the photographer had them.

John returned quickly, with a bucket of water, bandages and a cough syrup. He barely entered the room with his hands full, Arthur waited for him to drop something, he almost did, but John managed to adjust his grip before the bottle of syrup ended as a history. 

“You asleep?”

“Do I look asleep?” Arthur asked him back, watching him sleepily. “I don’t sleep with my eyes open like hares.”

John chuckled and put everything by the bed before sitting on it and getting to work. He worked in silence so they both heard when Dutch threw up in the other room, probably not for the first time like John said.

“How hard did he hit his head?” the younger man asked, worried about their leader.

“I didn’t see, I was busy not dying myself so you couldn’t complain about me for not returning.” John snorted. “Pretty hard, I think,” Arthur said and gritted his teeth when John was gently cleaning the wound. “Do I need stitches?”

“Thankfully not,” John informed him with relief in his voice. “It was a trap, wasn’t it?”

“What else,” Arthur sighed and closed his eyes again.

“God damnit,” John cursed, his hands trembling slightly so he stopped the cleaning. Arthur could feel his eyes on himself. “We really need to go, Arthur.”

“I’m working on it,” he promised softly and squeezed John’s hand when the younger man took it in his. He just needed three or four more sessions for the money to last them a couple of weeks, and if he could work as a model, they could even live for that. Them leaving wasn’t really a problem, he was more worried about everyone else and whatever they would like to leave as well and if so, how they would live on their own.

“I know, I wasn’t hurrying you up.” John stroked Arthur’s wrist where he had his thumb. “You think Dutch will let us leave?”

“He has nothing to say about this, the gang isn’t a prison, you left without a problem once.”

“Yeah, but no one ever wanted to leave before,” John noticed.

“He already thinks of you as a rat, I don’t think he’ll have a problem with you leaving. More with me.” Arthur was standing up to Dutch more and more these days but Dutch still thought of him as an important member of their gang. He trusted Arthur, him wanting to leave may hurt him beyond repair. Arthur didn’t really want to leave Dutch angry and hurt, that could only make everything worse but he couldn’t just stay and helplessly watch their gang crumbling around them. He was in love, he didn’t want to die. “But hopefully he can understand why I would want to go with you.”

As they would be leaving, they were planning to tell Dutch about them, make him understand they didn’t want to hurt or betray him, that even if everything would’ve been okay right now, they would want to leave eventually anyway. They wanted their own place and Arthur was tired of living as an outlaw. Dutch too, that’s why they were trying to get a lot of money. Everyone from their first gang, their little family, was ready to retire, Dutch got to understand that two young men wouldn’t want to stay with their fathers.

“Hosea will probably stay.”

Hosea was the only hope for this gang right now.

“As long as Dutch still has Hosea and capable people like Charles and Sadie, they’ll be okay,” Arthur noted with a sigh. They wouldn’t have to feel guilty about leaving like they did already despite being determined to leave.

“Yeah,” John agreed and got back to work, quickly finishing cleaning the wound and then bandaging it before he finally gave Arthur the syrup.

Arthur took three solid gulps and finally he could rest, already feeling better after the care from John. Now he only needed some sleep to recover fully and earn more money tomorrow. Being a model was awkward but it had it perks. Nobody was shooting at him and he didn’t have to worry about cutting open his head.

After moving everything away, John invited himself to Arthur’s bed, squeezing between him and the wall. Arthur waited grumpily till the younger man found a perfect spot and stopped moving, embracing him from behind and sighing into Arthur’s neck.

“You came back without your horses,” John noticed after a while, when Arthur was already close to dozing off, lulled to sleep by John’s steady breathing, his cozy warmth and his arms holding Arthur safely.

“Yeah, we had to leave them,” Arthur murmured, nuzzling into the pillow under his head and moving his back closer to the solid chest behind him.

“I could go get them for you.”

“Nah, I need to go to Saint Denis anyway.”

“Now? After the robbery?” John asked, surprised. “Why?”

“First, I need to get my horse back.”

“I can get it for you!” John reminded him.

“And second,” Arthur continued like nothing happened. “I have something to do there.”

Despite not seeing his face, Arthur knew John long enough to know when he was making certain faces. Right now he was definitely frowning.

“Do what?” he asked, suspicious.

“Need to get money for us.”

Arthur wasn’t ready to share his secret job with John yet. He was planning to tell him, just later.

“Robbing something or someone in the city after what happened today is crazy.”

“I’m not going to rob there,” Arthur assured him. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing dangerous.”

“Then why won’t you tell me?” The hurt in John’s voice made Arthur guilty of holding the job in secret.

It’s not that he was afraid of being laughed at, John would tease him for sure, but that’s it, Arthur could handle it. But the job wasn’t that much sure yet, Jeremy could still change his mind about him, maybe he wanted Arthur just for a few sessions. Hell, Arthur himself wasn’t sure if he would want to keep that job. It was fun but for now it was just a means to earn some money. Arthur didn’t want to get John’s hopes up about him having an honest job and them possibly making it when it was too soon to predict anything. 

He said just that to John to ease him.

“I will,” he promised. “It’s nothing permanent, I’ll tell you more when I’ll be sure if I want to work like that.”

“So it can become your permanent job?” John smiled against his neck. “So we’re staying in Saint Denis?”

“Not sure yet.” They were thinking of moving somewhere where it was safe. “No one knows us here yet, I only was here once before, when I was chasing Billy Midnight. Hopefully no one knows me after today and Dutch won’t do anything that would bring police attention to us. But I don’t really want to stay in Saint Denis for long. Maybe for a while. That job I can do anywhere.”

But would anyone beside Jeremy would like to take pictures of him? And would the man be willing to move with them to continue his work? Arthur would have to talk to him about that, he had to know how long it would last.

“Hate it when you’re so mysterious,” John admitted but didn’t push anymore. They just fell asleep.

John was still worried about the mysterious job when Arthur was taking one of the gang's horses to ride to Saint Denis in the morning. Arthur tried reassuring him with smiles and John was always smiling back, but he wasn’t getting any less worried.

Dutch was alright by the morning. He walked without swaying, ate breakfast hungrily and approved of Arthur going back to the city for their horses. Dutch also told him to be careful, especially about Bronte who could still send the police after him.

Arthur would lie saying he wasn’t worried himself. He didn’t want to get arrested or worse so he was planning to stay away from main streets and sneak to Jeremy’s hotel bringing as little suspicion as possible.

Without any spare saddle, Arthur had to put chaps to not hurt his legs and horse’s flanks. He could use Old Boy, John would borrow him his horse and saddle but it was a long time since Arthur rode a Shire the last time and which he chose for the ride. It was one of the two he and Sean stole from Greys after their escape, a pretty white one. The gang kept both horses to carry the wagons and sold two smaller horses when they weren’t needed anymore.

After making sure he rode off far enough to be out of John’s sight, Arthur removed the bandage from around his head and put it in his satchel to get it back on later, in case of another freak out from John. Unnecessary freak out at that, Arthur’s head was fine, the syrup and a long night of sleep helped a lot. He was feeling good enough he could rob a bank right now. Thankfully Dutch didn’t say anything about it yet. He was pretty grumpy in the morning, talking something to himself or quietly to Hosea. They were planning something and after seeing Hosea’s worried expression at some point, Arthur wasn’t sure he liked it much.

He entered the city tense and ready to run away in an instant but at the same time he tried to act natural, just another man visiting a city. Police were guarding the bridge leading to the city, they watched Arthur enter, suspiciously eying the gun on his hip and the lack of saddle. Arthur tipped his hat at them and smiled politely, careful to not show much of his face. Police let him in without a problem but Arthur didn’t allow himself to relax, he was still in a lion’s den.

There were little to none civilians on the streets. Usually loud Saint Denis was eerily quiet and empty. Rich people were absent, only police and those who couldn’t not work were out, sweeping the streets, cleaning the blood from it.

Arthur avoided every place where there was a lot of police and stuck to narrower streets until he reached Jeremy’s hotel. He hoped the photographer didn’t see anything yesterday or that he was okay. They tried not to shoot any civilians, everyone hid pretty quickly when the shooting started, but ricochets happens and Arthur saw that a couple of windows were broken during the shootout, getting hit like that was very much a possibility.

The man behind the counter, same as the last time, only spared him a single glance, Arthur noticed the man was holding a shotgun for protection. They really scared the people of Saint Denis yesterday and they didn’t even hurt anyone innocent. This city, even if full of crooks and degenerates with Bronte on top of the food chain, probably never experienced anything like yesterday. And it would probably get even worse with the bank robbery Dutch was planning. After their yesterday stunt, police would be ready, especially for a big group – you can’t rob a bank this big with just a minimal number of people after all.

Arthur reached the door and even before he knocked he could hear Jeremy inside, fussing about a lost jacket. With a smile, Arthur raised his hand and knocked, the photographer inside startled and quickly opened the door.

“Mr. Morgan!” he exclaimed enthusiastically and moved aside to let Arthur in and close the door behind him. “I have terrific news!”

“Yeah?” Arthur smiled at the man’s energy when he started running around the room, looking for something. “Did the pictures turn out great?”

Jeremy stopped looking behind the bed to send him a big toothy grin. “They turned out amazing, I already sold them!” he informed and with a triumphant shout, he raised his hand high above his head. He was holding some pictures with which he rushed back to Arthur to show him. “The newspaper wants more. I hope you’re still willing?”

“Yeah, sure,” Arthur agreed immediately and looked at the pictures. It was strange to see himself in such deliberate poses, acting in front of a camera. The photos were okay in his opinion, nothing special, just an average man holding a gun and smirking or looking at the fields, lost in his thoughts. He couldn’t imagine anyone paying for those. What would people even do with them? “But… They were really that impressed with some pictures of an unknown man?”

“People are getting interested in photography, Mr. Morgan,” Jeremy explained, taking the photos back. Arthur was surprised when he felt disappointed because of that. He wanted to keep them, maybe give one to John. Because if there was anyone who should have those photos and deserved to look at them, it was Arthur’s lover. “The cameras are getting better, they can show more and people want to see other people different from them. Look at it like watching a wild animal from behind the safety of a cage. Or seeing something exotic without leaving the house. Not everyone had an opportunity to see an outlaw after all.”

Arthur snorted. “I don’t think many people would want to see one anyway.”

Saint Denis saw three yesterday and now they were terrified. Even if the newspaper liked the photos, Arthur had a feeling that people buying it wouldn’t be as excited.

“Oh they do!” Jeremy assured him and looked around puzzled. He murmured something about a jacket again before he continued talking while also checking every corner of the room. “But just like me, most people are cowards.” Jeremy chuckled and looked at Arthur who just stood awkwardly in one place, wondering if he should ask about keeping the photos. “So why risk their life while looking for an outlaw when they can watch pictures of him? All those rich people can see a real outlaw without worry that he or she would rob them.”

“Except it’s all staged,” Arthur reminded him, deciding to sit on the armrest of an armchair standing by the door.

Jeremy looked from under the bed, a little embarrassed. “Well it’s art and art is kind of staged.” He waved his hand a little and dived under the bed again.

“So we’re going for an outlaw again?” Arthur asked, watching the photographer run like a chicken without a head, looking for a jacket he had on his back already.

“Oh no, people want to see all types of people.” Jeremy smiled at him again before checking inside the fireplace for some reason. “Rich folks would love to see a cowboy or a rancher. And because newspapers aren't that expensive, they often lay around on the streets and you don’t need to know how to read to look at the pictures, simple folks can enjoy those photos too. See people like them portrayed in a paper read by big city folks. Or, see a smart dressed man like they never could before and admire his clothes. Which is what we’re going for today.”

“I don’t think simple folks like watching rich people,” Arthur admitted, scratching his beard. He hadn’t shaved in a while, he would need proper grooming to look like a rich folk. “From what I know, the poor hate the rich, you know? Rich are using them.”

He hated the rich himself and he was poor once.

That actually made Jeremy hesitate and think again about his plan. “Well, I still think people will be more focused on a person wearing those clothes, not the clothes itself.” The man looked at him again, making him uncomfortable with how he watched him from head to toes. “Especially if a person wearing them is someone as handsome as you.”

Arthur could feel his face burning. Jeremy wasn’t looking anymore but Arthur still slid his hat over his eyes and bowed his head to hide his embarrassment. He wasn’t used to people saying things like that to him. Hell, even John saying words like that was making him blush like a maiden. “Uh… Thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

He didn’t know what else to say.

“You’re welcome,” Jeremy responded cheerfully and then grumped when he didn’t find his jacket. “So, I think we can start by going to the tailor for a proper clothing for you. I’m paying,” the man assured him when Arthur tried to protest. “I could use a new jacket too.”

“About that.” Arthur cleared his throat and stood up. “What if we do rich man other day and do something more comfortable for me for now? I still don’t feel good in front of a camera.”

The camera had nothing to do with that. The truth was, Arthur didn’t want to stay in Saint Denis and walk around more than he already did, even to a tailor. It was too risky, he wanted out till he still could leave on his own legs and not in a gravedigger’s wagon heading to dump the body in the swamps.

Jeremy was disappointed by the change of plans. “I think you’re a natural but if that’s what you want.” The man looked at him again. “You’re definitely dressed for…”

“How about a cowboy?” Arthur suggested. At least he knew how cowboys acted. Staged or not, he wanted those photos to be as accurate as possible, just for his own peace of mind. “I have chaps and everything, even a vest with fringes.” It was pure coincidence he dressed like that today. After he escaped John’s death grip, Arthur just grabbed what was on the top when he opened the drawers of his dresser. The simple white shirt, pair of ragged jeans and an old fringed vest it was, nothing special but John said with a wink that Arthur looked good enough to ride. Arthur shook his head to not think about that and how both of them were disappointed they had no time for a little fun. “Can’t go more cowboy than that. We could leave the city, ride to Scarlet Meadows and do a session there. Maybe I can even pose in front of a herd of bisons.”

They would also be far from Shady Belle so the chances of encountering someone from the gang would be non existing.

Jeremy’s eyes light up. “A real bison?” he whispered, thrilled.

“Yeah,” Arthur nodded. He had no plans of finding the bison but if that was what would get him the hell out of the city, he could lie. “But I need to collect some horses from the stable first, mine and my friends. They can be used in a photo too. Maybe one, my friends' horses is a bastard,” he added with a chuckle. The Count was a really pretty horse, too bad it was a monster.

Arthur knew he got the man when Jeremy almost started jumping in place. This man couldn’t stay still for long. The only time Arthur saw him stay still since they met was during taking photos. “This is a brilliant idea. Told you you’re a natural!”

Arthur blushed again. “Let’s meet outside of the city, yeah? In the place we were shooting photos last time.”

He was going to lead them from there, it was still early in the morning, they should reach Scarlet Meadows before noon and have enough time to take a bunch of photos.

“I’ll be waiting. This so exciting,” the man squeaked and Arthur had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. “If only I could find my jacket.”

Arthur took pity on him. If he let the man look for the jacket more, he would probably wait for Jeremy forever. “You have it on.”

Jeremy stopped his search and looked at himself. His face flushed instantly and he laughed nervously.

“Oh my, what and embarrassment,” he said in a chuckle and smiled sheepishly at Arthur. “You knew from the beginning, didn’t you, Mr. Morgan?”

“Hard to miss,” Arthur noticed and opened the door.

“I’m sorry for my silly quirks, I lose focus very easily, must have forgot that I already put it on.”

“Don’t worry about it, like I said last time, I’m used to weird photographers,” he assured the man and left the room shaking his head. “Photographers,” he snorted.

After another careful ride through the city, Arthur arrived at the stable where they left their horses yesterday. Good thing they paid for twenty four hours, Arthur didn’t have to pay more for the stay and just took all three mounts. Soon enough he was back in his saddle, on his trusty piebald tobiano Hungarian named Dusk, with three other horses trotting behind him.

Riding through the city like that, even when the streets were empty it was challenging but he managed and stopped just outside of Saint Denis. He should probably leave Maggie, The Count and Shire in the camp, he and Jeremy would be riding next to it but he didn’t want to risk the photographer knowing where the gang was.

It could be good for The Count to move a little. This mean thing was barely moving most of the days, he could use some exercises. A good run through Scarlet Meadows may calm him down.

Jeremy joined him not long after on his own horse and with a bag containing his camera tied to the saddle.

“Oh my, what a beautiful creatures,” he said in amazement after he saw the horses Arthur had with him. “Especially the white one.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Arthur warned Jeremy when he tried to reach his hand towards The Count. The Arabian was already stomping nervously in place. Jeremy held his hand still and stared at Arthur with big eyes. “He bites.”

“Oh,” he breathed and took back his hand before letting out a nervous chuckle. “Thank you for telling me, Mr. Morgan. You saved my fingers.”

“And I spared myself cleaning blood from his muzzle,” Arthur added before clicking at the horses with his tongue. Dusk listened right away and moved forward in a slow pace, Maggie and the Shire followed with The Count as the last one, holding his head high like he was the one in the lead and he needed to present himself.

It took Jeremy about two seconds to notice they were moving before he caught up to Arthur and they could start a faster pace, leaving Saint Denis behind. Arthur wished he could do it for good.

Jeremy babbled for some time about what he would want to show on the photos, Arthur just kept nodding, having nothing to say himself. He would definitely have some suggestions, Jeremy knew about cowboys as little as he knew about outlaws, some of his ideas were ridiculous and Arthur refused to take part in them. There was no point in talking about those suggestions now so he was quiet and let Jeremy spat all those words he was holding on his tongue.

Hopefully he would shut up soon so Arthur could listen to the many hoofbeats of his precious horses. There was no better sound on Earth – maybe John’s moans – and Jeremy was currently ruining it for him. Arthur would tell him to shut up but the man was kind of his boss so he had to keep his tongue in check around him. He didn’t want to lose this job, especially after he heard how excited John was about them leaving soon and having honest work.

Thankfully, Jeremy seemed to be done after a while and took a break to calm his breaths that increased significantly after he talked so much. Arthur let out a sigh of relief and enjoyed the ride without any human voices, just horses neighing happily from time to time, the beats of their hooves against the ground and the rustling of leaves. It was beautiful, a little windy day, peaceful enough that Arthur forgot for a moment that yesterday even happened. That anything from the last weeks happened.

“What happened yesterday in the city, Mr. Morgan?” Jeremy asked suddenly, ruining the good mood and reminding Arthur about the constant danger hovering above the gang every second of the day.

But the question also made him tense and he sat stiff in his saddle. Watching Jeremy only with the corner of his eye, Arthur kept his voice calm when he answered with his own question. “What do you mean?”

Could the man know Arthur was the one robbing the post office yesterday? Impossible, Jeremy’s hotel wasn’t even close, he couldn’t have seen it from the windows. Then again they were running through the city a little, Arthur couldn’t remember if they were running next to any hotels. Still, recognizing a man in such chaos, when Arthur had different clothes than the last time and a covered face was impossible.

“There was a robbery in the middle of the day,” Jeremy explained. He sounded almost excited. “Some outlaws robbed the post office, I can’t believe you didn’t hear about that.”

“I’m not staying in the city.”

Jeremy nodded in understanding and looked at Arthur. “Are you going to catch those bandits?”

“Maybe.”

Arthur didn’t want to talk about this, he hoped Jeremy could pick up the hint.

He did and for the rest of the road, they barely spoke to each other.

Just like Arthur calculated, it wasn’t even noon when they stopped near Dewberry Creek. Memory of their last train robbery flashed in front of Arthur’s eyes and he smiled. That was a good job, successful night full of excitement and seemingly endless energy. After Charles and Sean left, Arthur and John found a nice spot under one of the trees and fucked like two animals, riding on the thrill of the chase and the scare of being caught which still could’ve happened but that only made everything more exciting and any feeling ten times stronger. They rarely were this boneless after sex like that time.

“Let me tell you Mr. Morgan, that you won’t find such sceneries in New York,” Jeremy admitted while looking around in admiration. “This is some beautiful place.”

“Well, New York is a window to the world, can’t argue with that but the real America is here,” Arthur said proudly. He loved this country so much but there was less and less left every day. “Better enjoy it while it’s still here.”

Jeremy smiled sadly at Arthur, sensing his mood going down at the thought of losing this beauty.

“Shall we start then?” the photographer asked and grabbed his bag from the saddle.

Arthur nodded and let the man prepare himself. To pass the time, he took care of the horses and put them in the shadow where they could graze while the humans would work.

Putting the camera in place took some minutes and when it was ready, Arthur got himself into the role, or tried to at least. It was still a little awkward doing this silly posing, he was confused like the first time and Jeremy had to tell him what to do for the first photo. Otherwise Arthur would’ve just stood there like a fool.

“Let’s start with something simple,” the photographer suggested while Arthur stepped from one foot to another awkwardly. “Too bad we don’t have a fence like the last time.”

“The closest ranch is Emerald Ranch, we can always go there later,” Arthur noted and kicked a pebble that was near his boot. “Don’t know if the owner would be happy about that though.”

“We’ll see.” Jeremy smiled to encourage him and help him relax, which wasn’t easy. Arthur had a problem with erasing a scowl from his face and he was pretty sure he was blushing. Thank god photos were black and white. “Maybe just stay with your legs slightly spread, hands on the belt. Do cowboys have guns?”

“Sure, have to scare wolves and robbers somehow,” Arthur answered while taking the pose. “That’s good?”

“Hmmm.” Jeremy watched him from behind the camera, not really happy with what he was seeing. “Maybe just one hand on the belt, hold the brim of your hat with the other.”

“Like that?” Arthur grabbed the brim with his thumb and trigger finger, like he was going to greet somebody with a tip of his hat.

“Maybe just one finger? Push it up?” Jeremy changed the concept again. Arthur rolled his eyes and kept the hat from his eyes with the trigger finger holding the brim. The sun was hitting his face now but he kept his eyes open instead of squinting them like he wanted. “Perfect. Such shame I can’t make photos in color, people would fall in love with your eyes.”

Arthur gulped when he felt a pleasant warmth spreading through his chest and to his face. A bitter and meaner part of him wanted him to deny that there was anything beautiful about him but Jeremy picked that weird stick and hid his face behind his camera so he was ready to shoot. Arthur didn’t want to ruin the photo and be blinded by the sun any longer than necessary, so he shut his mouth and only allowed himself to share the doubts about his beauty with himself.

He wasn’t beautiful. Everyone, with John as the most persistent, was telling him otherwise but they were just blind.

The first photo was taken and the tension left Arthur’s body as he became familiar with being photographed. He felt more comfortable when Jeremy was preparing the camera for another photo while also talking about another pose.

“How about a lasso?” Arthur suggested and already pulled a rope from Dusk’s saddle. “Cowboys use them all the time.”

“That’s a splendid idea!” Jeremy exclaimed and hurried the preparation. “I’m so glad I have you, Mr. Morgan, without you I would be completely lost.”

“You wouldn’t have anyone to take photos of in the first place,” Arthur noticed, and just to have some fun before the next picture, he started tossing the lasso in the air. There was never a bad time for practice. Too bad his favorite target wasn’t present. John hated being caught on a lasso, especially when he was a kid.

“Can’t you catch cows like everybody else?!” the kid was always screaming.

“Catching oily racoons is funnier,” was Arthur’s answer every time.

“Mr. Morgan?” Arthur looked confused at Jeremy. “I can’t take a photo when you’re waving it around so much.”

“Oh, sorry, didn’t know you were ready.” Arthur caught the lasso in his hands and displayed it for the camera so nobody would be confused it wasn’t just a random piece of rope. The noose was hanging loosely, he held the piece near it in his hand and the rest of the lasso was gathered in the other. To complete the image, Arthur put a cocky smile on his face and turned towards the camera. The posing was already easy for him.

“Oh, perfect!” Jeremy breathed and quickly took a photo.

Arthur didn’t stop smiling when he heard a hiss and a loud click. He was feeling good, amazing even. Posing for photos was fun and for some reason it was making him weirdly confident and… handsome even. He didn’t know where it was coming from but it was nice to finally feel attractive, even if just for a few hours and just for a photoshoot.

“Do you have any other ideas, Mr. Morgan?” Jeremy asked, excited. “I would hate to interrupt you when you obviously know what you are doing.”

“Sure, I have ideas.”

They moved till they find a big enough rock for Arthur to rest his one foot on it. Still holding the lasso, he flashed a full smile at the camera and another photo was taken. Jeremy actually clapped his hands together, he was liking it that much.

Not as much as Arthur, that’s for sure. He had so many ideas for photos he couldn’t decide what to do next. They went with the rock for two other pictures but this time Arthur was looking to the side and showing his profile. Jeremy insisted on a close up photo of his face as well, god knows why when Arthur’s beard was such a mess and needed a trim.

“It gives you authenticity. Cowboys don’t have access to barbers,” Jeremy told him when Arthur shared his worries.

They ditched the lasso after that and it was just Arthur for the next couple of photos. Photos of him sitting on the ground and enjoying the sun on his face, photos of him laying down, propped on his forearm, one leg bent in the knee. They played with few variations of the same pose, once he had his hand on the knee, other time he had his palms touching while looking in the distance with a relaxed expression on his face. He looked into the camera once too, his hat in his hand, a seductive smile on his face.

“Women will love it!” Jeremy assured him when he felt stupid for doing something like that for the picture. “Trust me, Mr. Morgan, house wives are often so bored with their husband that seeing an attractive cowboy will finally be something exciting in their life.”

“If you say so,” Arthur replied and laid flat on his back with hands under the head while waiting for the next photo. He was enjoying himself even more than the last time, maybe because of the nature.

Apparently, lying in the grass like that was another perfect pose. The only problem was, Jeremy couldn’t capture his whole body like that.

“It’s a perfect way to show your cowboy clothes and I can’t even do it!” he started panicking which made Arthur laugh.

“Just get on the horse,” he said and get back to laying comfortably and without any care. He propped his leg on his knee and swayed his foot to the sides in the rhythm of a melody that was stuck in his head.

“Yes, that’s brilliant.” Jeremy was in such a rush he missed the stirrup the first time. “Won’t the horse stomp on you?”

“He’s not stupid, he’ll be careful, right, boy?” The horse didn’t answer but Arthur knew he was safe and didn’t even flinch when the gelding stopped near him. “How do you want me?”

“Just comfortable,” Jeremy answered, the camera and that weird stick in his hands, above Arthur, who pushed his hat up his head and smiled like he was trying to seduce a lady again, this time without being asked to do so. He hoped it was working, he had never seduced a lady before, he had no idea what to do really. 

Jeremy was pleased after taking a picture.

“How about we spice things up?” Arthur suggested and opened first the vest and then a few top buttons of his shirt, revealing his chest hair. Jeremy gaped at him, his face red. Arthur wasn’t any better, it was awkward for him too and he didn’t even know if any newspaper would dare print something like that but if they would, the housewives were going to love it. And he was hoping that he could keep that photo and give it to John. For lonely nights.

“I hope no one will arrest us for that,” Jeremy laughed but went with the idea and prepared the camera. “It’s pretty bold.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not sodomy,” Arthur assured him. He knew how one looked. This was just a little inappropriate but that’s all. “And boldness sells, doesn’t it?”

“Oh it does,” Jeremy confirmed. “Alright, let's show all boring men how to keep the lady interested.”

Arthur chuckled and smiled at the camera, biting his lower lip teasingly. He didn’t know how to feel with the idea of being lusted after by married women. Apart from feeling insanely attractive. He was feeling that again, that confidence that right now screamed louder than any other thoughts telling him he wasn’t beautiful. Which in the past only ever happened whenever John reduced him to a state in which he was believing in everything, including in his lover’s words telling him he’s handsome.

He liked listening to it to that confident part outside of bed for once..

“Let’s try some with the horses now,” Jeremy asked, clearly not being able to wait any longer. “Can they all be in the photo?”

“We can try. Just let me coax them a little.”

After giving a treat to every horse, Arthur led them in front of the camera and told them where to stay. Maggie, Dusk and the Shire had no problem with being obedient but The Count was being problematic as always and moved too much so Arthur just let him go.

“Shame,” Jeremy sighed sadly. “The Arabians are so elegant.”

“No reason to waste time on that ungrateful creature when you have other pretty horses too.” Arthur put Dusk to his right and Maggie on his left, with big Shire standing behind him. He grabbed the reins right by the horses’ muzzles, crossed his legs in ankles and nodded at Jeremy. “Better be quick, horses don’t understand the importance of keeping still.”

“On it, Mr. Morgan!”

The photo was taken and Arthur cooed at his pretty horses for doing a good job.

“Finally pictures of something pretty,” he said in a joking manner, the bitter part of his brain in control once again.

“They sure are pretty, but the star is only one,” Jeremy said, making Arthur blush. He hid his face in Dusk’s mane. He didn’t expect Jeremy to take a picture like that but before Arthur could ask what he was doing, Jeremy asked his own question first. “Can you make one of the horses stand on the hind legs?”

“Sure but you have to be quick with the photo,” Arthur warned him. “They won’t stay like that long and it scares them so no redoes. And he’s big so make sure you’re standing far enough to capture him whole.”

“Of course, once you’re ready, let me know.”

Because he wasn’t sure of other horses, Arthur had chosen Dusk for this. The gelding trusted him so he wouldn’t be scared that much after the stunt and maybe even would be willing to try again shortly after.

When Jeremy was ready, Arthur climbed the saddle, patted his horse on the neck and made him stand on the hind legs. Dusk neighed loudly and raised his body high, kicking with his front legs slightly. Arthur squeezed his flanks with his thighs and held the reins tight to not fall. He was going to keep the horse in that position as long as he could but he wouldn’t force the poor animal to risk his life for god knows how long. Thankfully Jeremy was quick like he promised and after three seconds in the air, the photo was taken and Dusk stomped back on the four legs.

“Good job!” Arthur praised him right away. The gelding was in distress so he started to calm him down, softly stroking his neck and speaking to him quietly until the horse was calm and felt safe again. “That’s my boy,” Arthur chuckled and climbed down, turning to Jeremy. “You got it?”

“Can’t be sure till I print it,” Jeremy answered with a big smile on his face. “That was amazing, Mr. Morgan, you have a way with horses. Like a real cowboy.”

“It’s really not that hard,” Arthur assured humbly. Horses were easier to deal with than people. “Want some more photos of them?”

“Without a saddle if that’s possible?” the man asked. “Want them to look wild.”

The Count was more willing to join this time. He even let himself be petted for one photo and clearly liked the attention which wasn’t surprising at all. Arthur rode Dusk once more, this time without a saddle or any reins, he only used his thighs to stay on the back of his huge gelding. They couldn’t take photos in motion so it wasn’t that hard, all Arthur needed to do was to make Dusk look into certain directions but like the good boy he was, the horse played his part.

Arthur couldn’t wait to see those photos.

Last photos were with horses as well. Arthur posed with a smirk on his face while leaning against the Shire’s flank. In another photo, he connected his forehead with Dusk’s and closed his eyes to show the comfort his horse was bringing him. In other, he kissed Dusk on the nose and Jeremy took a picture right before Dusk kissed back and coated Arthur’s whole face with saliva.

Maggie helped as well, she appeared in a photo where Arthur was feeding her and one where she had her head on his arm and chewed on the collar of his shirt like a damn goat.

The Count wouldn’t let humans ruin his picture so Jeremy took two photos of just him. Dutch would be proud.

Arthur was having so much fun he was sad to be done for today but Jeremy had no more plates to take pictures so they had to stop. After paying the rest of the money for the last session and full price for the new ones, they started getting ready to get back.

“I think I need to buy much more plates for the next session.” They already agreed to meet tomorrow. “You’re an endless inspiration.”

Arthur was glad he was busy with putting a saddle on Maggie so Jeremy couldn’t see his blush, though the man was probably used to them already.

“The pleasure is mine,” he said when his ability to speak returned. Time to ask some serious questions. “How long is it going to take?”

Jeremy looked up from his bag. He was packing the camera. “Pardon?”

“How many photos of me are you going to take?” Arthur asked, pointing at the device.

“As many as I can.” Jeremy closed the bag and stood up, looking at Arthur confused, scared even. “Why?”

“I’m in the middle of changing my life,” Arthur admitted nervously. “I need a steady flow of money so I need to know if I need to look for other work soon.”

He felt stupid asking this. Like there was a chance someone like him could work like that all the time. People would get bored eventually.

“I’ll be happy to pay you for a long time, Mr. Morgan,” Jeremy assured him with a calming smile. “You don’t have to worry about money, with your potential, other photographers will want to have you in front of their camera as well. Just wait till the newspaper with the first session is out, money will start flowing.”

“It’s hard to believe. Money never comes easy.”

He learned that a long time ago. The only way to gain money quickly was to steal them from those who had enough as it was. Becoming rich for being photographed? Now that sounded ridiculous, no matter what Jeremy was thinking. Who would want photos of strangers instead of their loved ones?

“They do if you know what you are doing and people are interested.”

“How long are people going to be interested in watching the same man dressing as different people?”

Even if people really liked this kind of thing, how long could they be interested in one Arthur Morgan?

“From what I know? Forever. Does art ever get boring?”

Arthur laughed and bowed his head, shaking it a little. “I’m not some renaissance painting.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jeremy said with a kind smile. Arthur felt his face getting hot again and he avoided looking at the photographer when the man was leaving. “Goodbye, Mr. Morgan.”

“Goodbye,” Arthur said back and grabbed the other horses to finally get them home.

It took about a minute for him to hear a horse coming his way. When he turned back, he saw Jeremy again, looking very embarrassed.

“Pardon but… How did we get here?” he asked and pointed at the road. “Could you maybe…”

Arthur laughed, not believing how helpless this man was. “I’ll ride with you to Saint Denis,” he promised, still smiling, amused.

“Thank you very much” the man breathed in relief. “You’re very kind.”

“Don’t mention it,” Arthur mumbled.

They came back around the evening, Jeremy talked enthusiastically about the photos again. Arthur used that opportunity to ask for the photos from the first session. Jeremy gave it to him without a problem.

After parting ways shortly after passing the road to Shady Belle, Arthur returned to the camp, happy with how this day turned out, the failed robbery once again forgotten. Lenny and Dutch were happy to see their horses again, John was happy to see Arthur again and once they were alone, they kissed shortly before John painfully pinched him on the arm for taking the bandage off. Arthur completely forgot to put it back on.

John tried to coax him into telling what he was doing the whole day but Arthur refused to tell him.

“Not yet,” he said while sitting around the fire with others. “But it’s a safe job,” he added more quietly so Micah couldn’t hear.

John wasn’t satisfied but nodded anyway. He trusted Arthur.

Next day, Arthur rode off in the morning and joined Jeremy in Saint Denis. The city was calmer already, life returned to the streets and feeling safe, Arthur agreed to go to the tailor. After spending three hours there, he walked out with a new suit. He cut his beard a little last night so it didn’t look as wild and fitted his new clothes better.

Taking pictures in the park where people were walking around was awkward. Arthur lost his confidence from yesterday and even imagining no one was there wasn’t helping. He tried his best but it just wasn’t it so they moved back to the hotel room which was fancy enough.

For a few hours, Arthur posed with the glass of whisky, with cigars, showing off some very expensive watches and just trying to look as snobbish as he could. He felt dirty acting like some rich man but it was just pretending so he ignored it and just enjoyed the work he came to like much more than he thought he would. It was just supposed to be one time thing, maybe five. Now he was thinking about doing it as long as there was interest in him.

The newspaper with photos from the first session came out that day. Jeremy bought it and they looked at it together, Jeremy excited, Arthur unsure. Seeing his face in a newspaper was… something. It wasn’t unpleasant but he couldn’t say he was very happy about it. After all, dozens if not hundreds of people were going to see him. He would never meet any of them and he was still afraid of what they would think of him. It was certainly different than seeing his face on a wanted poster where no one was judging his looks, just how much money they could get for him.

They couldn’t tell what other people thought about it but they saw people looking at the pictures, printed in the middle of the newspaper on two whole pages. Jeremy was assuring him they would know soon enough from the newspaper itself. People liked writing letters about what they saw in the paper. 

Two days later, they were in the wilderness again, this time near Emerald Ranch. After paying the owner a little, he agreed to let them use his ranch for photos. Arthur and Jeremy were happy with the results and Arthur came back to camp that day with his suggestive photos safely tucked in his journal, along with money for today's session. 

His good mood didn’t last when John approached to meet him before Arthur could even put his horse with the others.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried. Did someone attack them? Someone died? It didn’t help that John looked actually scared.

“Dutch want to kidnap Bronte,” John revealed.

That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all. Bronte left them alone, why would Dutch want to attack him? For what?

“Shit.”

That was ruining all of their plans.

“Shit indeed.”

What were they going to do now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is to make Arthur aware how beautiful he is. He's already feeling a little bit comfortable in his body and it’s only a start :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long chapter, guys, I don't know how it happened :( Now I fear how long will be the last one, because a lot will be going on.

“Mr. Morgan… Mr. Morgan.”

Arthur shook his head and looked at Jeremy behind his camera. The other man was watching him with worry on his face.

“Sorry,” Arthur muttered, dragging a hand through his tired face. He didn’t sleep well last night and today wouldn’t be any different.

“Something troubling you, Mr. Morgan,” Jeremy noticed, concerned. “Any way I can help?”

“No, no it’s a… family problem,” he explained vaguely and forced a smile on his lips to assure Jeremy there was nothing to worry about. “Let’s finish this up.”

Jeremy nodded uncertain and got back behind the camera. Arthur tried to get into the role but he had a problem with that ever since they started today. He still did his job, smiled when he needed to and all that, but it took longer to put a certain emotion on his face than during the last three sessions.

It's hard to smile and look happy for a photo when all you can think about is how your father is trying to kill you all with some stupid revenge. Ever since Arthur heard the news yesterday, he was worrying about what was going to happen next. Attacking Bronte was just crazy, this man was surrounded by guards and he had police behind him. But Dutch didn’t care if it was madness, he just wanted revenge for Bronte for making a fool out of him with that post office, while in reality Dutch made a fool out of himself when he believed the Italian mobster in the first place.

It was strange for Dutch to just go after someone like that. Sure, there was this long feud between him and Colm but actually going for revenge? It was always too dangerous, revenge was only bringing more troubles for everyone. You start revenge and you open a circle of it that will never end.

Of course Dutch weren't seeing it like that, for him it was just one of the preparations for their bank heist.

“We need to take him out, otherwise he’ll send the police after us again,” Dutch was explaining to them that evening. They were in his room, he, Dutch, Hosea, John and for some weird reason also Micah, who was there just to nod and be on Dutch’s side whenever one of them was showing doubts in Dutch’s crazy plan.

“They’ll be onto us anyway, it’s a bank in the middle of the city, for god’s sake!” John pointed out, which ended with nods from Hosea and Arthur, and with glaring from Dutch and Micah.

“Of course there’ll be police, Marston,” Micah agreed nonchalantly, walking around the room like he was owning it. “But they won’t be as ready as with Bronte selling us to them.”

“Why are you here again?” Hosea asked tiredly. Micah turned to him sharply but before he could defend his right to be here, Dutch spoke up.

“I invited him, Hosea,” he explained to his friend. “To have another insight for the plan.”

“You mean insight that is the same as yours.”

“Well, we can’t listen to the past all the time,” Micah remarked. Arthur narrowed his eyes at him when the man got closer to Hosea almost in a threatening manner. “I like you Hosea, I respect you, but you’re old and you think like an old man. Cowardly.”

“Watch you goddamn, mouth,” Arthur growled at him, with John tensing right next to him. “Or I’ll shut it for you.”

“Arthur,” Dutch scolded him. “What’s wrong with you?”

What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you, he wanted to say but he just shook his head and left the room, with John right on his heels. They stepped onto the balcony and smoked for an hour, listening to the argument that started inside. At some point, Micah left chuckling, very pleased with himself. Arthur wanted to follow him outside where he noticed him later, and feed him to the gators. 

The argument ended eventually and Hosea left Dutch alone. John and Arthur were already inside and waited by the doors to John’s room. Hosea looked at them and shook his head sadly.

“He wants you to meet him in Lagras tomorrow,” Hosea informed Arthur and went downstairs.

Tomorrow. He had a session tomorrow.

He was supposed to meet with Jeremy in the morning and leave north towards Annesburg for some nature shots again. Jeremy agreed to change the plans when Arthur said he needs to be in the city in the evening and he wasn’t sure how long it would take them to go back.

So they stayed in Saint Denis, Jeremy bought him another fancy suit, paid for a visit to the barber to style Arthur’s hair so he could pose as a rich man again, this time at the port, with some ferries as the background.

Arthur didn’t enjoy the work like always, he was too worried about what would happen tonight and despite his attempts to not let it affect his work, he was sure it did. He kept his ideas to himself, he wasn’t even thinking of them, everything felt like an unpleasant chore and he just wanted to lay down and sleep.

Jeremy was saying the photos were turning out great but Arthur could sense he was lying to make him feel better, which only made Arthur feel guilty he was ruining expensive plates and wasting both of their time. He was showing on his face what Jeremy wanted but even without looking into the mirror he knew his eyes were too hollow right now to belong to a confident banker or whoever he was acting as right now.

“This isn’t going to work, Mr. Morgan,” Jeremy said, not even trying to take a photo when he noticed through the lens how distracted Arthur was. They were here for two hours already and they only did three photos that were most likely going to end in the trash.

“Sorry, Jeremy,” Arthur sighed and rubbed at his eyes again. He should’ve slept but after he laid down in bed and closed his eyes, the sleep never came. He got up after an hour of tossing in his bed and went to John who wasn’t sleeping either, instead he was drinking whisky alone while staring through the window.

John had company for the rest of the night.

“It’s alright, everybody can have a bad day,” the man assured him with a smile. “Maybe we can use that for our advantage.”

Arthur was ready to go home and try to take a nap before tonight so he was surprised when Jeremy didn’t tell him to leave.

“What do you mean?”

“People love melancholy, Mr. Morgan,” Jeremy started explaining and also walking around. “Nothing moves one’s heart like seeing other people miserable.”

“I don’t think that’s good if you enjoy other people's pain,” Arthur questioned, confused about what Jeremy was doing. This photographer was a mess.

“Oh, it’s not like that.” Jeremy dived behind some boxes that waited to be shipped. “It’s about feeling sorry for one’s pain, it has nothing to do with enjoyment. People just like to cry sometimes and instead of experiencing pain themselves, they can look at other people’s pain. They feel calmer after.”

That was still sick in Arthur’s eyes but what could he know? He was just an uneducated outlaw.

“Wish I could cry,” he mumbled under his breath but Jeremy was already back and he heard him, responding with a nervous chuckle. Arthur eyed the photographer, noticing the bottle of whisky in his hand. That’s exactly what he needed now, even though he could still feel the thumping in his head from the night drink with John. “You want me to get drunk?”

“No, it’s empty.” Jeremy turned the bottle upside down and nothing came out, not even a drop. Whoever had this bottle, he emptied it dry. Lucky bastard. “But I want you to pretend it’s full and drink from it.”

“Why?” Arthur asked, taking the bottle from the man.

“Miserable people drink.” Didn’t he know it. Jeremy returned to the camera and stood behind it. “I would say act like you’re miserable but you look miserable enough so just add fake drinking to the pose.”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. Why the hell not?

“I would prefer a real drink,” he said before he put the bottle to his lips.

“Wait, wait!” Jeremy shouted suddenly. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him and lowered the bottle when the photographer ran up to him. “You look too tidy.”

“I thought that’s how rich people looked,” Arthur noticed, confused. Jeremy loosened his bowtie, ruffled his clothes, even his hair that he paid for to be neatly slicked back with pomade.

“Not people who lost their fortune,” Jeremy explained with a big smile of satisfaction. “There. Perfect.”

The photographer rushed back to his camera and he was ready, just waiting for Arthur now. He didn’t even have to play, one thought about the gang, how it was falling apart and a genuine pain showed on Arthur’s face in the exact same moment he closed his eyes and tossed his head back, ‘drinking’ from the bottle. He really wished it was real, it would silence the pain that was ripping his chest apart.

This was it, their gang was over, only nobody noticed it yet.

The click and a hiss informed him the photo was taken. When he opened his eyes, he could feel tears in the corners. Arthur blinked them away and turned to pleased Jeremy.

“Sorry for taking advantage of you like that, Mr. Morgan,” Jeremy said with a regretful smile. “But it really looks perfect.”

“It’s fine, I ruined your plans for today and was ruining your picture too, might as well lend my pain.”

Jeremy chuckled but without any humor behind it. It was amazing how much sympathy he was showing towards the man he only knew for a few days. It was making Arthur uncomfortable. He didn’t need pity.

“How do you feel about moving it to the saloon?”

“When you're drinking in despair, you’re usually first at the bar then go to the port to contemplate jumping, not the other way around,” Arthur noticed. A horrified expression appeared on Jeremy’s face, Arthur sighed. “I didn’t try to kill myself,” he assured the man. “But I spent enough time in saloons to know what people do.”

It calmed the man down a little, he even breathed in relief.

“Don’t worry about the order, I can change it later. So about that saloon…”

Arthur exchanged his hand towards the street. “Lead the way.”

He wasn’t going to refuse an opportunity to drink for real. He tossed the empty bottle behind himself, hearing it shattering. He cringed at the sound and followed Jeremy eagerly. He really needed to drink.

Couple of hours later, after spending all day in the saloon near the market, Arthur said goodbye to a barkeeper who was happy to serve him drinks for free. Another payment for Arthur helping him get rid of the rats. Twice. Jeremy left a long time ago, happy with how the pictures turned out.

“I hope everything will be fine in your life soon, Mr. Morgan,” he said before leaving, squeezing Arthur’s arm reassuringly and smiling at him.

He hoped so too. 

Arthur didn’t drink much, he wasn’t stupid, he had a job to do and he needed his senses to be sharp and his brain clear. He drank a few shots for the photoshoot and that was it, later, he was just sitting in the corner and brooding, thinking about what he and John would do next and how to stop Dutch from going after Bronte.

But there was no stopping Dutch. Whatever caused him to act so irrationally, it was too deep in him to get rid of it now. They should’ve done something right after Blackwater, after that poor girl lost her life for no reason. Instead everyone just dismissed it.

Arthur hoped he could repair the gang somehow before leaving with John but it was a lost cause. There was nothing he could do but to save himself and the man he loved. He felt like he was betraying the gang, betraying Dutch but they would leave eventually, even without troubles the gang was in right now. They just wanted their own life, the current troubles only helped them make a decision earlier.

When the sun started setting behind the horizon, Arthur mounted his horse and left towards Lagras. It wasn’t far but it was already dark when he reached the small village in the middle of the swamp. Dutch was with one of the locals, when Arthur joined them, they were talking about their hatred towards Bronte.

“Ain’t you dressed up,” Dutch chuckled when he saw Arthur’s clothes. He didn’t have strength to change, he probably should’ve had, Jeremy may want him to dress like that again. It was a nice suit too but right now, Arthur didn’t care at all about some clothes.

Walking around the swaps in the darkness, surrounded by alligators and chased by one wasn’t how Arthur imagined his night to go. And all of it for a stupid boat. He almost got eaten by a giant alligator for a boat. The boat they could’ve stolen from someone or borrowed and rowed to Bronte’s mansion alone.

Beyond angry, Arthur returned to camp, throwing the ruined suit in the corner of his room before collapsing on his bed and falling asleep, too tired out for the worry to keep him awake.

He felt better the next morning, he was even excited for the next session, hopefully it would turn out better than the one from yesterday. That one was eventually saved but Arthur was still feeling bad about being unprofessional. He should’ve left his problems at home.

That’s exactly what he was going to do today. Just forget and enjoy the job he liked. Jeremy asked him to meet him outside of town so they could do the nature shots but instead of going north, the photographer wanted to return to Emerald Ranch and take photos of a cowboy on the plains in Heartlands. Arthur liked that idea, he needed to get away from the city and being dressed in a simple shirt and jeans was much more comfortable than any suit, no matter how nice it was.

He looked from the bed at the ruined suit from yesterday. He would tell Jeremy he lost it somewhere if the man would ever ask.

Stretching on his bed first, Arthur got up and got dressed in his favorite blue shirt, put on some black jeans and tied a neckerchief around his neck before sitting back on the bed to put his boots on.

He was just fastening the belt of the spur on the left leg when his door banged against the frame and a very angry John marched inside, throwing a newspaper at him.

“What the hell is this?!”

Arthur picked up the newspaper, cringing at the volume of John’s voice.

“A newspaper?” he asked, not knowing what else he was supposed to tell the younger man or what John expected to hear.

Cleary it wasn’t it because he stomped towards Arthur, snatched a paper from his hands and searched through it. When he was waiting, Arthur noticed it wasn’t some old newspaper, it was a new one, probably bought in the city yesterday. All colors drenched from his face and his heart started beating faster. John knew.

“What the hell is this?!” he asked again, almost shoving the open newspaper into Arthur’s face.

Arthur looked at fuming John for a moment or two, then at his own pictures printed in the newspaper, even though he’d seen them already and knew what John was showing him. He just wanted more time to come up with an excuse.

“That’s… my job,” he said finally, because what else could’ve said if not that? John deserved the truth.

“A job?” John repeated. “And what kind of job is that? Being photographed?”

“I thought it was strange too but apparently people love it,” Arthur explained and stood up. John was still angry. “I’m sorry I hid it from you.”

“I don’t care about that,” he shouted, slapping the newspaper from his hold. “I care about how dangerous it is!” He wasn’t lying, Arthur could sense the worry in his voice. “You’re showing your face to everyone!”

“My name is not in the paper,” Arthur noted, trying to calm his lover somehow.

“Pinkertons already know it!” He knew that. “And now they know with which newspaper you work with!” He knew that too. “And they can just go there, ask about that… photographer and play him to reveal your location!”

“John…”

“He could lead you into a trap!” Now John was just panicking.

“John…”

“And why the hell do you let other people watch you like that?!”

Now that was an unexpected outburst of jealousy.

“What?” Arthur asked. “People see me every day when I walk down the streets.”

“But now they can have your picture!”

It was definitely jealousy.

“Are you still worried about Pinkertons finding me or are you just jealous?”

John opened and closed his mouth, a faint blush appearing on his cheek. He took a couple of deep breaths and finally he was ready to talk like an adult, not a kid throwing a tantrum.

“What the hell is that job?” he wanted to know, sounding like a confused child. The fight left his body and now it sagged slightly. Arthur sent him a reassuring smile and grabbed his shoulders.

“Why don’t you come with me? I was just getting ready, I can explain on the road, huh?” Arthur was relieved John wasn’t hating him for the job, he was just worried which was always welcome. 

John nodded without hesitation.

“What about the gang?” he asked, letting Arthur finish dressing. John himself was only in his union suit.

Arthur smirked. “They can handle being without us for a day.”

“I just don’t want Dutch to have the wrong impression.”

“He won’t, now go dress, you can’t go like that. Even though I like it.” John huffed and went to the door. “And dress like a cowboy,” Arthur told him before the younger man left the room.

“Like a cowboy?” John sent him a confused look.

“Just do what I say.”

Still puzzled, John left and they met again five minutes later by the horses. Arthur examined John’s look, he put on a white shirt, very tight, black, striped ranch pants that Arthur liked very much, and his brown jacket he wore a lot in Horseshoe but stopped once they were in Clemense Point where it was warmer. He looked good enough, Arthur decided. Maybe Jeremy would like it too.

Old Boy was ready, just like Dusk. Arthur was standing near them, chewing on his breakfast he offered John as well.

“We won’t be eating the whole day,” Arthur informed him when John raised an eyebrow at him while accepting the bread and an apple.

They ate quickly and left, informing Bill they were going to be back in the evening.

“Where are we going?” John asked when they left Shady Belle behind them. 

“Right now? To the bridge leading to Saint Denis.”

“And then?”

“To Heartlands.” John frowned in confusion. “That’s where the session will take place.”

John nodded but he clearly didn’t understand everything yet and was still confused.

“So, you have your pictures being taken,” John tried to understand.

“Yup.”

“And you get money for it.”

“Mhm.”

“And people want to see those photos?” John was looking at him with a surprise written all over his face.

Arthur shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Why? They don’t know you.”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s like buying a painting?”

It was still confusing to him too, even with Jeremy explaining that people just like to stare at beautiful things or people. Still, going so far to buy a photo of a stranger only to see some beauty? Arthur would never understand that, especially since he had John. Why would he want to look at someone else when he had perfection right beside him.

“Except you’re real and someone will have your photo in their house,” John complained, all stiff.

Arthur chuckled. “Don’t be jealous, Johnny,” he said to him, even though he liked it, it was nice.

“I’m not,” John grumped, making Old Boy walk a little faster so Arthur couldn’t see his blushed cheeks. Too late.

“Sure.”

Dusk quickly caught up to the other Hungarian and they were trotting side by side, the swamp on their right and Grey’s fields on the left. They were getting close to the meeting point with Jeremy.

“So you just stand, you got your picture taken and you got money for that little work,” John continued asking when he was sure it was safe again.

“I thought it was weird too but yes. I got around twenty for one session.”

“Twenty for just standing around looking pretty?” he asked shocked, not even realizing his comment made Arthur blush.

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” John looked right ahead, coming around all he discovered today. “Never thought getting money was that easy. We’re going to meet your photographer?”

“Yeah, Jeremy Heatfield.” Arthur smiled. “Funny fella.”

“How so?”

“You’ll see,” he answered mysteriously. He could see Jeremy already, a couple of seconds later and the man noticed them too and grinned widely.

“Ah, Mr. Morgan. Good morning!” he greeted Arthur when he and John came closer. Jeremy’s gaze immediately flew to the younger man. “I see you brought company.”

“Jeremy, this is my friend John Marston,” Arthur introduced them. John tipped his hat at the man. “He’ll be joining us today.”

“Wonderful!” Jeremy exclaimed and clapped his palms together, still looking at John with fascination that was making John uncomfortable. “Jeremy Heatfield, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“This was a wonderful idea, Mr. Morgan, two outlaws are better than one!”

“Wha… We’re not outlaws!” John denied immediately and looked at Arthur in panic. Arthur sent him a calming smile to stop him from freaking out further. It worked to some extent, John was still terrified, which was funny considering Jeremy was a harmless photographer who wouldn’t hurt them even if he tried.

“Oh, I know, only for a photoshoot.” Now that calmed John down and made him relax. He saw that Jeremy was as oblivious as he could and was just a harmless mess. “Well, today it’ll be cowboys. I’m sure you’ll do great in front of a camera, Mr. Marston.”

Arthur rolled his eyes when John panicked again.

“Wait a second, I didn’t agree to anything!” he protested, drawing the attention of a stagecoach that was just riding out of the city. Thankfully they didn’t stop to look at three strange men arguing in the middle of the road. “I don’t know how to do this!”

“Relax, John, it’ll be fine.” Arthur reached between their horses to pat him. John snapped his head towards him, his eyes full of fear. “I didn’t know either and look at me now. Printed in the newspaper!”

He couldn’t believe it was making him proud.

“Mr. Morgan is a natural, I’m sure you’ll be too, mister,” Jeremy assured him with a soothing smile.

It didn’t work on John at all. “Uh, I’m not the best person to get pictures of,” he informed nervously and pointed at himself. “Look at my face, Mr. Heatfield.”

Jeremy did just that and nodded. “Very handsome.”

“I… what?” John asked dumbfounded, his face all red.

Arthur couldn’t stop himself from laughing. John would have to get used to Jeremy being very straightforward. 

“Come on, John, you’re a handsome man and them scares only add to your beauty.” Arthur's words only made John blush harder but it also stirred him into reaction. 

“Shut up,” he hissed at the still chuckling Arthur before turning to an oblivious Jeremy. “Listen…”

“Of course I’ll pay you and Mr. Morgan separately,” the man interrupted him, stunning John into silence again. For a few seconds but it was something.

“Pardon?”

“You gotta do it, John.” Arthur smiled at him when John looked at him confused. “Remember we need money. Besides, it’s fun.”

“Fun?”

“I enjoy it,” Arthur admitted, a little shy but he had to convince John to join somehow. “It’s strange at first but then it gets better, trust me.”

John was considering it, Arthur could see it in his eyes, but he also saw doubt. John probably wanted to just go with Arthur and keep an eye on him and see his new work, but he was also tempted to try at being a model.

Arthur was sure he would be great in that role.

“I’ll think about it while going to Heartlands,” John said finally, very careful what he was promising so no one could have any doubts. Arthur smiled at his lover and John shyly smiled back.

Jeremy didn’t care about any doubts and already looked like John agreed for hundreds of sessions. “Splendid! Let’s go then, sirs!”

The man went first, leading them toward the Heartlands, probably not even knowing the way like the last time but so far he was going into ride direction, so Arthur only smiled and followed with John by his side.

“You really like doing this?” the younger man asked him when they rode past Shady Belle. Jeremy was way ahead, babbling excitedly to himself because he didn’t notice Arthur and John slowed down. Mostly John slowed down and Dusk, used to riding next to Old Boy, did the same.

“Yeah.”

He knew it wasn’t enough, he could feel John’s piercing gaze on himself. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. He looked at John shyly, there was only curiosity in his gaze, he wasn’t going to laugh at Arthur. “I guess I just like when people look at me and admire me,” he confessed shyly.

John furrowed his brows. “I admire you all the time,” he reminded Arthur, whose heart fluttered.

“But you’re biased.” He smiled, seeing an indignant look on John’s face. Arthur turned away, feeling himself blushing. “It’s just nice, I got a chance to relax a little, have some fun by pretending to be someone I’m not.”

Just like he expected, John didn’t laugh at him. He would probably tease him later but right now, he was just understanding and supporting.

“You think you would like to do it all the time?”

“Maybe.” He was thinking about it but it wasn’t anything serious yet. Though with Jeremy assuring him he would always find work in that field, it was getting harder to resist working as a model till he was still attractive in people’s eyes. “You okay with it?”

John shrugged. “I guess,” he said, uncertain, looking somewhere to the right to not look at Arthur. “I don’t like other people ogling you.”

Arthur snorted. “How do you know they ogle me?”

John looked back at him with a surprise and something that looked like anger but it wasn’t directed at Arthur so he wasn’t worried.

“You really don’t know how beautiful you are, don't you?” John asked. Arthur just looked away, not being able to handle that intense admiring look outside of the bedroom. “You were chosen for this for a reason.”

He really didn’t think of it that way, Jeremy chose him because he looked like an outlaw, not because he was attractive.

Usually he would argue with John about that but today started great and he didn’t want to ruin it, even if their arguments were never much heated or full of hatred. Still, he preferred to keep them behind closed doors, not have them in the middle of the road, with Jeremy happily riding in front of them. The man was still talking, he either still didn’t notice no one was listening or just didn’t care and just had to talk.

“Thank you.” That was the only appropriate thing he could say to that. “And don’t worry. I may be in the newspaper but you have real me all for yourself.”

“And I’m gonna keep it that way,” he promised with a grin and a possessive tone in his voice that made Arthur shiver.

The Heartlands looked beautiful like always when they arrived, basked in rays of midday sun. The sky was almost completely clear, only with a few clouds here and there, meaning that Jeremy would have the perfect light all the time.

The photographer started to set his camera right away. When Arthur saw in which direction it was facing, he went there right away, making sure his clothes looked fine and getting into the mood. He didn’t want to ruin the pictures again.

John meanwhile, stood with the horses, stroking Old Boy’s head and watching the preparation with great confusion, looking like he didn’t know what to do. Arthur smiled at him to make him more relaxed but John’s smile in response was still tense.

“Alright, I’m ready,” Jeremy announced and looked at John. “Did you decide if you’ll be joining us, Mr. Marston?”

Both Arthur and Jeremy watched him with hope. Arthur really wanted his lover to join, he wanted him to see how much fun it is, for them to play together, have some good time. And it was a perfect opportunity to have their pictures taken together. And of John alone. Arthur wanted to have at least one just like he was going to give his to the younger man.

“Ah, I’ll just observe for now,” he refused with a nervous smile and stayed where he was.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind,” Jeremy told him before turning to disappointed Arthur. “You ready, Mr. Morgan?”

“Yeah,” he answered and relaxed once more. “Any idea what you want from me?”

“I was hoping you would have some ideas.”

“Alright, how about this?” Arthur put one hand on his hip he pushed to the side a little, while the other hand he grabbed the top of his hat, uncovering more of his face to the light of the sun. The pose came naturally, he didn’t have to think much about it, he just did what he felt would look nice.

“I can always count on you, Mr. Morgan.”

All giddy, Jeremy dived behind the camera and got ready. Arthur smiled, watching John with the corner of his eye. The younger man was captivated, still not understanding what was happening. He was so tense he jumped when the photo was taken with a hiss. Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle at his lover’s reaction.

Arthur kept the pose for a moment or two longer, knowing that sometimes Jeremy liked a couple of photos of the same pose but from a different angle. When the photographer said nothing, Arthur’s body returned to the casual stance.

That felt good, playing again instead of showing to the world his true feeling he would rather not have at the moment. Or at any moment.

He waited patiently for babbling Jeremy to be ready again, when John came closer hesitantly, watching the camera with a frown.

“You can come closer, the camera doesn’t bite. And he’s not doing any picture for a minute,” Arthur assured him, interrupting Jeremy’s talk to himself. The photographer looked at both of them confused before returning to work like nothing happened.

John huffed and stopped next to Arthur, still looking towards the camera before focusing solely on him.

“That’s it?” he asked. “You just stay still for a moment and then wait longer for another photo?”

“That’s the job,” he confirmed, pulling out a smoke and offering one to John. They light up both cigarettes by leaning over one match. Arthur put the flame out and tossed the match on the ground. “Told you it was easy.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see the fun aspect,” John admitted, a small smile forming on his face. “But you look happy. Happier than I saw you lately”

“I am,” Arthur confessed, returning the smile. “This job helps me forget about everything else. Just like Jack helps you.”

“I’m glad you have your moments of peace,” John said, looking at Arthur tenderly. “But I’m a little jealous it’s not me.”

Arthur chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’re my peace too.”

They smiled at each other again, unable to turn their eyes from one another even for a moment, the love inside them flourishing. The mood was broken by a click of the camera and a hiss. John jumped startled, Arthur only sighed.

“Damn it,” he cursed and looked at Jeremy who smiled innocently at them.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he explained, now nervous when the scare in John passed and was replaced by anger. “I can destroy it,” Jeremy offered, waving the protected plate on which their picture was.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Arthur decided, ignoring John’s surprised look. “I bet it was great.”

“Oh it was,” Jeremy assured them, quickly changing the plate. “I’m sorry I surprised you, Mr. Marston, hope it was okay.”

“It…” John hesitated, looking at Arthur again to make sure he was really okay with it. “It’s okay,” he confirmed finally. “Could use a warning next time.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. “Next time?” he repeated and John smiled shyly.

“I guess it can’t be that bad if even such a closed off man like you likes it,” John explained, playing with his jacket nervously. “I can try this one time.”

Arthur beamed at him. “Thanks, Johnny.”

John blushed slightly and turned his gaze, taking a drag of his cigarette to hide his embarrassment. “Don’t mention it.”

Arthur’s grin only widened. He didn’t say anything else but he was glad for John joining him. He wanted to share what he liked with his lover and he came to love photography very much during the few sessions he had. He hoped John would like that too, maybe they could work together then. Not only would it give them more money, but they could also start their new, calmer life that way.

“Alright, gentleman, try not to smoke the whole cigarette, I think they would be perfect for the next shot,” Jeremy told them, ready for another photo. “Mr. Marston, could you stand with your side to the camera? No, too much, just a little. Perfect.”

Arthur watched, amused how John was struggling with his new role. This man was never listening to orders well and suddenly some stranger was telling him how he was supposed to stand.

“Just relax,” Arthur advised him.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” John admitted in a whisper.

Arthur rolled his eyes at him. Jeremy just told him that. “I’ll guide you through it, come on. Relax, think of something nice and smile nicely for the ladies.”

With a huff, John tried his best to do just that.

“Mr. Morgan, a cigarette in your mouth and hold it with your hand.” That’s all Jeremy needed to say, Arthur already knew how to stand in front of the camera to look good and Jeremy didn’t wait for him to pose in case he would need to correct him. Instead, he turned to a very nervous John who was tapping his foot on the ground. “Mr. Marston, you put your hands on your gun belt, stay relaxed, cigarette loosely hanging between your lips.”

John did everything he was asked to except relaxing. Jeremy frowned not sure what to do, maybe also a little terrified of John who in his stress started smoking.

“Don’t smoke it,” Arthur scolded him, not even moving his head to him. He was holding his pose.

“Sorry,” John mumbled and puffed the smoke through his nose. “I can’t help myself when it’s in my mouth.”

“Yeah, you never can’t help yourself when you have something in your mouth,” Arthur teased, smirking when John coughed on another smoke.

The younger man quickly put himself back together and smirked in return.

“Only when it’s something I like,” he practically purred, making Arthur want to bite his lower lip to hold a moan when he heard that arousing voice.

“Mr. Marston, if you could keep that smug expression while looking at the camera, I would be very grateful,” Jeremy’s voice interrupted them. Arthur was still in the role, John only slipped a bit but then he recreated the smug look on his face and the picture was taken. “Splendid!”

“It worked?” John asked, pulling a cigarette out of his mouth for that while Arthur took a lazy drag.

“I’m sure it did,” Jeremy promised and hurried to change the plate. “I’m so glad you came, Mr. Marston, this gives us so many scenarios to choose from.”

“Sure, mister, whatever you say,” John responded and turned to Arthur. “What next?”

Arthur shrugged. “Anything, really. But I have an idea.” John watched him go to their horses. Arthur returned with the lasso.

“What are you going to do with that?” he asked. He sighed resigned when Arthur tossed the lasso at him and pressed his arms tight to the rest of his body. “Release me.”

“No,” Arthur refused and came closer, forcing John to turn right for the camera. The younger man growled when he was tugged by the rope towards Arthur, their faces so close their hats bumped together. “You want out, you try escaping.”

“Arthur,” he growled warningly. John never liked being caught on a lasso. Tied, sure, but not caught like livestock. It probably had something to do with how Arthur treated him as a target during his practices in the past.

Arthur tugged at the rope, holding it where it was meeting with John’s body. “Relax, Johnny,” he ordered, lightly at first but when John started wiggling too much, Arthur repeated his words but more firmly, with an authority in his voice he usually only reserved for the bedroom. “Relax.”

John went still, his chest puffing with each deep breath he was taking while he was relaxing just like Arthur told him to. The anger slipped from his face but he wasn’t completely relaxed when Arthur smirked and another photo was taken.

John, once again, looked like a startled animal. He didn’t even notice when Arthur released him, gathering the lasso in one hand.

Jeremy seemed happy with the result but Arthur couldn’t help but notice the confusion on his face.

“I’m sorry for the very inappropriate question but I couldn’t help but notice…” he started uncertain, swaying from one foot to another behind the camera.

“What?” John barked, still angry at Arthur for catching him on a lasso.

“Are you, perhaps, homosexuals?”

John paled, his face white as snow. He just froze. Arthur opened his mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with a lie but he realized that would be pointless.

“So what if we are?” he asked, defensive, hand going to the gun. He shot a man for coming at him at John for being homosexuals before, he was ready to do it again.

As if nothing happened, Jeremy smiled cheerfully at both of them.

“Oh, nothing at all, I just thought we could use it,” he explained, returning to work.

Arthur and John, who were in control of his body again and didn’t look like he was going to die anymore, shared a puzzled look. “Use it?” Arthur said after Jeremy, who nodded. “Fellas are being hanged for sodomy. Not to mention even kissing a woman on the street would be too scandalous and you want me to kiss a man for a photo?”

That would be suicide.

“I wouldn’t ask you to go that far, just some subtext, tension.” For some reason Jeremy was excited. Arthur wasn’t sure if he should be concerned with it or not. “People won’t even know what it is but they will like the aesthetic of two strong men being really close. Especially women.”

“Why would they like that?” John asked.

“What woman, attracted to men, wouldn’t want to see two attractive men instead of one?”

“You was right, he is a strange fella,” John admitted, shifting nervously in place.

“Of course if you don’t…”

“We’ll do it,” Arthur assured.

“Seriously?”

Arthur looked at John. “Why not?”

“People will want to kill us.”

“They already want to,” he reminded his lover and with a seductive smile, he brought him closer like with the rope but this time he just used the jacket. “And I want to have some interesting pictures with you.”

John relaxed in his hold and licked his lips. “Oh yeah?” he rasped, which Arthur felt in his groin.

“Mmm,” he hummed. Feeling safe even with Jeremy looking, he kissed the corner of John’s mouth. “Yeah. I got a few of me for you.”

John’s eyes lit up and they stayed that way through the whole session. It was innocent, really, just two friends having fun and silly posing for the picture. But Arthur knew that people like them would notice the sexual tension all those photos had.

As for women, who were supposed to be interested the most as Jeremy put it, that Arthur didn’t know how it would work. He couldn’t understand why women attracted to men could want to watch or notice two sodomites but his knowledge about women was limited to Mary, Eliza and a few whores. Maybe women really liked this. Maybe they just wanted to look at two attractive men like Jeremy said.

This session was by far the best Arthur took in his short career as a model. He got to hold John and be held by him a lot. They stood with their backs to each other with the nearby tree working as a background, they sat on the grass holding hands and looking at each other with bright smiles on their faces, or just hugging each other while on the ground, John sitting between Arthur’s legs with Arthur’s chin resting on his shoulder or other way around.

John was perfect, he relaxed completely after a couple of photos and was very eager to pose more, mostly because that was giving him the opportunity to be close to Arthur, but the older man was sure he was having fun too.

Arthur once again spiced things up. If women wanted to see attractive men, he could provide that. He told John to ditch the jacket and roll the sleeves of his shirt. He didn’t need to ask him to open a few top buttons because John always wore shirts like that. Arthur opened his and they laid on the grass like that, side by side, smiling seductively at the camera.

Jeremy wasn’t saying anything, he was just smiling and letting them work, trusting them in terms of choosing the best poses. Arthur was surprised when John took the initiative and came up with the idea for the next photo. He made Arthur sit on the grass, propped on one hand, and then sat between his legs, leaning against his chest and looking up with a wide grin, reaching his hand to adjust Arthur’s hat, the other one on his thigh while Arthur’s free hand was around his belly, just resting there.

Arthur looked down at John with the same smile, not caring it was just for a photo. They both weren’t pretending, they were finally freely showing what they felt and it was a nice thing to do after hiding for years.

Jeremy was in heaven.

They took a couple of more innocent photos, them smoking together again, looking at each other, some photos with horses, acting as they were leading them somewhere or them just sitting in the saddles, their horses standing next to each other. They had fun, Arthur had no doubt about John, the way he was smiling after every taken photo was telling enough. It was making Arthur’s heart beat faster, knowing that he had John’s support and not only that.

The session was a success, Arthur didn’t think about the current gang situation even once and he wasn’t going to do that now. He was enjoying the job well done, smoking another cigarette with John while Jeremy was packing his camera.

“Oh, Mr. Morgan, I almost forgot.” Jeremy picked something from his bag and rushed to them. “A fellow artist contacted me, he would like to paint your portraits.”

“Me? As a painting?” Arthur took the card from Jeremy and noticed it wasn’t the only thing he had with him. “Why would someone want me painted?”

“He asked to give you this and meet him whenever you can.”

While Arthur was still looking at the card – the painter was in Saint Denis – John took a few envelopes from Jeremy, not even waiting for the photographer to give them to him, he just snatched them, ignoring Arthur’s scolding look.

“Alright, I’ll go see him,” he promised. That’s additional money and being painted couldn’t be so bad. Only it would take longer than taking a photo. “What’s in those?”

“Fan letters. They were sent to the newspaper’s office.”

Arthur took a look at the letter John had already opened and started crumpling in his hold. Arthur paled when he noticed what was written in it.

“She poetically ask you to have sex with her,” John hissed angry and stared at Arthur.

Jeremy excused himself quietly and ran away, leaving them alone.

“What?” Arthur asked. “I didn’t know they would start writing something like that, you can’t blame me!”

“It’s because you’re too goddamn attractive!” 

“Suddenly it’s a problem for you?” Arthur didn’t understand where this anger was coming from. “It’s just a stupid letter.”

“This woman promised to divorce her husband for you!”

“So?” For Arthur, it was mostly just embarrassing, reading about the fantasies of a woman he never even saw. “It’s not like I’m going to run to her now just because she wrote, uh…” Arthur checked one of the lines. “Her inner womanhood is burning for me.”

It didn’t calm John in the slightest. And Arthur knew the younger man wasn’t angry at him, just at that woman who wrote to a stranger, telling him how much she would like to have sex with him while this man was his.

“Mr. Heathfield!” Jeremy jumped at the booming voice. Arthur took another letter from John’s grasp while he was distracted. It was from another woman, it smelled of some sweet perfumes and it was calligraphed like the queen of England herself was supposed to receive it. Only what was written in it wasn’t for queens eyes. This lady wasn’t poetic like the first one, she used language Arthur only ever heard in harbors, from sailors and prostitutes working there.

His face became red when he read the whole thing. Sex wasn’t something he was shy about but he preferred to keep it between John and himself, not read what some lady would let him do to her if she had a chance.

The lady, Theresa, asked for his address and left hers, promising to keep it a secret from her boring husband who was never home anyway. Arthur crumpled that letter and tossed it on the ground so John wouldn’t be able to read it.

“Yes, Mr. Marston?” the man asked, scared.

“I want to be photographed with Arthur from now on.” Arthur snorted, which earned him a stern look from John. Arthur quickly covered his lips, still stretched in a grin.

“O-Of course, Mr. Marston,” Jeremy agreed without a fuss. “I’ll be happy to do that.”

Satisfied, John turned back to Arthur, giving him the rest of the letters, clearly not wanting to read them and probably not wanting Arthur to read them as well but the younger man wasn’t going to forbid him that.

“Here are your fan letters,” he spat with venom as he pushed the envelopes into Arthur;s chest, fuming like an angry bull. Arthur was tempted to tease him a little more to see what he would do but hugging in front of Jeremy and having an angry sex in front of him were two different things.

“Jealous?” Arthur asked anyway, waiting for the reaction. If not now, then after returning to camp John would show him how jealous he really was. For now, he just decided to be angry.

“Yeah,” he admitted, surprising Arthur with his honesty. “They had no right to write those things to you.”

“Can’t forbid them that, darling,” Arthur said quietly, keeping the conversation away from Jeremy. “But I can ignore it.”

John visibly relaxed when Arthur pulled a match and burnt the letters.

“Don’t worry.” Arthur placed his hand on John’s biceps and caressed it gently, helping the younger man relax even more. “I’m not looking for a replacement.”

“I know,” John sighed and hid his blushing face behind his palm before looking at Arthur again. “Just made me angry they wrote this to you, not even thinking if you have a wife.”

“Well, I don’t, unless you consider yourself my wife.” John huffed. “After today’s session they’ll certainly stop with the letters,” Arthur noticed with a chuckle. “Or not and they’ll start lusting after you too.”

“We’ll see how you react then.”

“Oh, I’ll be angry too,” he promised huskily, getting into John’s personal space, which didn’t bother the younger man in the slightest. His breath hitched slightly and his hands automatically went to Arthur’s hip, hovering, but not touching, not knowing what is acceptable in Jeremy’s present. “But also pleased they recognize what I see. I hope they’ll be jealous of me.”

“Well,” John rasped, staring into Arthur’s eyes. “I can’t really blame those women for wanting you. They clearly have a taste. Too bad you’re taken, huh?”

“I’m not regretting that,” he assured and took a step back, enough for them to look innocent. “You’re ready to go, Jeremy?”

“Yes, of course,” the man answered quickly, still a little shook after John’s display of jealousy. John could be scary when he wanted to. To Arthur he was only more attractive that way. There was nothing more beautiful than fire in those dark eyes and with those new scars? God help me, Arthur sighed in his mind and climbed onto his horse. John did the same and they were on their way back to Lemoyne.

They separated from Jeremy a little bit before Shady Belle. Arthur first made sure the man could get back to Saint Denis on his own, he wouldn’t want him to get lost and die somewhere. Losing such a good job now, when John was into it as well, would be terrible.

Their horses walked side by side, Jeremy slowly disappearing in the distance after he said his goodbyes, thanked John for joining and told them both when to meet him again for the next session. Arthur smiled wide when John answered for both of them that they would be there.

“So, how do you like it?” Arthur asked eventually. They didn’t talk much during the photoshoot, nor during traveling back. “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

“I did,” John admitted with a smile. “It was strange at first, posing in front of some other man. But you were right, it’s fun. And I liked being close to you.”

“Of course you did,” Arthur chuckled. “You really want to keep doing it?”

“Had to keep your fans away.” John winked at him, making him chuckle again. “And I really liked that. It was nice to fool around without any care in the world. Just like I’m with Jack and he asks me to pretend I’m a knight or something. It’s nice and makes him happy and I like that. Just like when you’re happy.”

Arthur nudged his horse to get closer to John and grabbed his hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling a little. Like always whenever John was sweet talking to him like that.

John squeezed his palm lightly. “No need to thank me, sunshine,” he assured and smiled mischievously. “Now about them photos of you that you mentioned…”

“I’ll show you at home,” Arthur promised.

Through the rest of the road, they held their hands between them, dropping them only when they reached Shady Belle. They wanted to eat in peace, after a whole day of eating only a few scraps, they were starving and in the mood for some whisky. But first, they had to talk to Dutch who came with a clearer plan to abduct Bronte.

The light atmosphere that accompanied them all day was gone in a second the moment Dutch mentioned his crazy plan. Along with Hosea, they tried to convince Dutch to drop the idea, that they could still rob the bank without angering most of the city by kidnapping the man that was pulling the strings here. Whenever they were making progress, causing Dutch to doubt his plan and listen to others' advice, Micah was coming in and praising it again, whispering into Dutch’s ear like a goddamn snake.

He was invited to the meeting again, acting like he was the most important person after Dutch. It was breaking Hosea’s heart, Arthur could see that in his father’s eyes. Hosea wasn’t the one being offended easily when someone wasn’t agreeing with his ideas but this was more than that. That was Hosea losing his partner, his best friend, to another man that wasn’t even here more than half a year ago. All those years of friendship seemed to mean nothing to Dutch now and Hosea was deeply hurt by that.

Arthur and John were too. Their family was falling apart in front of their very own eyes and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

They drank themselves to sleep that night again. Arthur hated that he was drinking that much lately but apart from photography, it was the only thing easing the pain right now. He regretted drinking when he woke up in John’s arms the next morning, an enormous headache almost paralyzing his whole body.

Arthur had no idea for how long he was laying in bed before he finally had the strength to wake up and redress. John still slept and Arthur didn’t wake him, just kissed him on the cheek and left, quietly closing the door behind himself. John shouldn’t have stayed in his room but he was doing it more lately and they just didn’t care anymore if someone noticed.

After eating something small, Arthur rode off to Saint Denis to meet with the painter. He lived above the barber and before he opened the door, Arthur expected to find Charles there. It wasn’t that crazy French, but that painter was about the same age, thankfully not as strange. He quickly explained with which company he was working and what they had in mind.

“Cigarette cards,” Arthur repeated, sure that he heard wrong.

“Yes, the current set is out for a long time now, my bosses need something new and I thought about you,” the painter explained. “Our company was really impressed with your pictures in the press and they want you on their cards.”

“But why?” He guessed it was once again about looking at pretty things. And freaks like Ramsbottom or whatever his name was. 

“We decided you have the right appearance.” Was that another way to say he was handsome? “You can look threatening, but also friendly.”

“So like every human,” Arthur noticed. Why was he questioning this? It was money they were talking about.

“But you are the one being photographed currently,” the man pointed out. “By the time the set will be released, everyone will know you well enough they will jump at the opportunity to buy cigarettes with the cards.”

So they wanted to use him as bait. It was sleezy but it wasn’t illegal. And he would still get the money for it.

“How much would I get for that?”

“Three dollars for the photo.”

“For a photo?”

“Yeas, I can’t just paint you right now for the whole set, it would take days that I'm sure you don’t have them to spare, so I need reference photos to work without you,” the man explained like he was speaking to a very small and annoying child.

“And how many photos do you need?”

“Twelve, for the whole set.”

“Twelve,” he muttered under his breath. “Divided by three, that would be…”

“Thirty six,” the man offered before Arthur could say it himself.

“I can count, mister,” he spoke up offended. “And I want six dollars.”

“Six?” The painter was surprised.

“I’m not stupid, partner, the one pack of cigarettes alone cost three dollars. You’ll get money for every single one of them and what do I get?”

“Your job ends with the photos,” the painter reminded him.

Arthur took a threatening step towards the man, giving him a sneak peek of how scary he could really be before the actual show. He smirked when the man looked frightened enough.

“I don’t have time to fight with you over rights to earn money from each sold pack.” Jeremy already promised him a percentage from the sale of the newspaper. Depending on how many papers would be sold, Arthur was to receive five percent of it from each sold newspaper. It wasn’t much, especially compared to the ninety percent the newspaper was keeping, with another five belonging to Jeremy, but at least he was being paid for more than just posing a couple of times. If the newspaper was selling better thanks to his photos, why shouldn’t he be paid for that? “That’s why I want six dollars for each photo. Or go find someone else to take photos off.”

The painter wasn’t very pleased, he wanted to refuse but he would probably end up in trouble if he was to tell his bosses he failed. Telling them he had to pay more than they expected was less unpleasant than returning without anything, so the man finally nodded.

“Very well, six dollars.”

“Paid now.”

The painter glared at him but paid. Two hours and twelve photos later, Arthur was richer by seventy two dollars and he and John were another step closer to starting a new life.

Two days later, Arthur and John met with Jeremy for another session, this time in Saint Denis. They didn’t know what to expect so they didn’t dress the same and in specific style.

Jeremy was in his hotel, already excited about something and running from one corner of the room to the other, adjusting things, his camera already placed in the middle.

“What’s the ruckus, Mr. Heathfield?” John asked right after they entered. Arthur didn’t even knock, he just opened the door.

“Oh, you’re here, good!” Jeremy abandoned whatever he was doing and went to the closet in the corner. He pulled one of the suits he bought for Arthur. “I need you to put this on, Mr. Morgan.”

“We’re pretending to be rich men again?” Arthur asked, taking the clothes and looking at nervous looking John.

“Um, you don’t have another suit in that closet, do you?”

“We would have to go to the tailor for that, but don’t worry, you’re dressed perfectly.”

“I am?” John looked at himself, his old and dirty pants, boots, worn-out black shirt, vest and his favorite grey shotgun coat. “I look like an outlaw.”

“I know, it’s perfect!” Jeremy exclaimed, his sudden burst of energy scaring John. Arthur chuckled from his corner where he was undressing to put the suit on. “Don’t worry, Mr. Marston, this is what I had in mind, that’s why I told you to not dress up before coming.”

“So what exactly do you have in mind?” Arthur asked, bringing John’s attention to himself. It didn’t go unnoticed to him that the younger man ogled him for a few seconds while he was without a shirt.

“You, Mr. Morgan, will play a businessman coming back home only to discover you’re being robbed by an outlaw,” Jeremy explained gleefully, vibrating with excitement. “How you portray it is up to you, we can use how close you are to add some tension or we can make it realistic. Could use something to cover Mr. Marston’s face with something. Outlaws wear masks, right?”

“How about a bandana?” John reached to his pants pocket and pulled out a black bandana, covering half of his face with it. “Will it do it?”

“Perfect!”

“That should be fun,” John said to Arthur, bandana still on his face. Arthur was almost ready. “I’m gonna rob you.”

“We’ll see about that.” 

“Come on.” John got closer and adjusted Arthur’s suspenders. “Rich men don’t fight when they’re being robbed.”

“This one does.”

John huffed under the cover and let Arthur finish dressing. Jeremy was shortly done too, happy that he can use his hotel room again as a background.

“Since Mr. Marston has his mask already, let’s start from the beginning of the scene,” the photographer proposed.

“Those photos are going to tell the story?” John asked, surprised, not turning his eyes from Arthur, clearly liking how dressed up he was.

“Well of course,” Jeremy confirmed and moved Arthur closer to the door. “So, you enter, find Mr. Marston going through the bedside table. I want to show that, so Mr. Morgan, please play shocked.”

“Alright.” That was new, he hasn't played this emotion yet.

“And Mr. Marston, you stand here.” John reluctantly let himself be moved in front of the bedside table, his back twisted so he could look at Arthur standing by the door. “Keep that pose. Maybe hands a little wider, ready to grab the gun, yes!”

“It’s kinda uncomfortable,” he complained while Jeremy returned to his camera.

“You’ll be fine, stop whining,” Arthur told him.

“Mr. Morgan, that’s your cue.”

Arthur took a deep breath, took a position with a hand on the knob, like he just closed the door, and looked at John, trying to ignore his amused gaze. The younger man didn’t have to play yet since his face was mostly covered and eyes weren’t visible for the camera.

Despite John trying to distract, intentionally or not, Arthur pulled up a face of confusion and surprise. He knew he succeeded when not long after Jeremy took a photo.

“On the first try!” Jeremy shouted, impressed. “Good job, Mr. Morgan!”

Arthur chuckled nervously and relaxed, same as John who was glad to be out of an uncomfortable position.

“That was very authentic, Art,” the younger man noticed, a trace of humor hearable in his voice. “Am I that scary?”

“You’re not scary at all.”

John looked offended for a moment before Jeremy caught his attention.

“Alright, gentleman, next I want Mr. Marston to pull his gun and point it at you, Mr. Morgan,” the photographer instructed them. “If that’s possible of course.”

“Sure,” they agree at the same time. “Just give me a second, I don’t want to shoot Arthur,” John added right away.

John pulled bullets from his revolver and put them in his ammo belt. With the gun safely prepared, he took a stance, legs spread and placed firmly on the floor, his body mostly facing the camera to present his outfit and belts. With a still covered face, he looked at Arthur and extended his hand, pointing the revolver at him.

Arthur watched him proudly for a moment, how quickly he learned to pose. He answered with his own stance, hunching a little with hands raised in surrender. John’s eyes twinkled with amusement when they watched each other, the younger man was really liking it. Or maybe he just liked having Arthur at his mercy, even if just for the photoshoot.

When Jeremy was ready, Arthur quickly put a mask of fear on his face and the photo was taken.

“Perfect!” The man hurriedly began to change the plate. “Now you can do whatever you think is best.”

Arthur was hoping for that moment of his own inventions.

“How about this?” he asked and with one long step, he stood in front of John now and grabbed the wrist of a hand that was holding the gun. John gasped with pain and dropped the revolver, Arthur used this moment of distraction to reach for his bandana and pull it down, uncovering his face and shocked expression on it.

The bandana was tightly tied, it didn’t get loose when Arthur tugged at it, bringing John even closer, making the younger man stumble into him till their chest were almost touching. One of John’s hands was still in Arthur’s grip but the other one landed on the older man’s shoulder, grabbing the lap of his suit for additional balance.

“Keep that pose,” Jeremy told them with a gasp in his voice. “I’m almost done with the new plate!”

“The hell are you doing?” John finally asked.

Arthur smirked before answering. “I told you I won’t let you rob me,” he reminded his lover and moved his lips closer to his ear. “I worked hard on that fortune, kid. I won’t let some dirty outlaw steal it from me,” he sneered and then smiled again when he heard John gulp.

“You wouldn’t have done that if that was real,” John pointed out when Arthur looked into his face again.

“No.” And especially not to John who was too fast of a shooter. “But it isn’t and I can have some fun with a young outlaw who thought he could rob a helpless man only to turn into a prey himself.”

He practically purred the last part and because their bodies were close, he felt the small shiver that ran through John’s body.

“Prey?” he repeated in a husky voice, the pupils of his eyes wide. “What exactly would you do to a young outlaw like me, mister?”

Arthur could feel his body responding to that fake innocent John’s voice was coated with. “I can think of a few ideas,” he whispered so Jeremy couldn’t hear.

John looked briefly at the photographer before returning his gaze to Arthur. He looked absolutely tempting right now, eyes full of lust and lips parted in a quickened breath. And so, so close that Arthur would’ve kissed him with all he got if Jeremy wasn’t there at the moment.

“Can he hurry up?” John asked and nodded with his head at the other man.

“What? Uncomfortable again?” Arthur teased.

“Quit opposite actually.”

Arthur was sure that if he got any closer to John, he would feel the hardness in the younger man’s pants. He could feel his own right now, hopefully it wasn’t visible for the camera. If only they could throw Jeremy from the room and use the comfy looking bed behind John.

“As much as I love the banter and the looks on your faces, it needs to look realistic,” Jeremy said, interrupting their little moment. “You still need to play your roles, the tension needs to be here but you can’t look in love.” They both blushed, when Jeremy said that so easily. “Grab Mr. Morgan by his tie, Mr. Marston. Yes. And bring him closer to threaten him. Oh no, no, Mr. Marston, try to put a scowl on your face. You’re irritated that this rich man is laughing at you and overpowering you.”

“I’m not sure I can just put a scowl on my face like that. Or any anger.”

Well, if he wasn’t able to do it himself, Arthur was going to help him. There was no way he was going to let go of that perfect shot of the two of them.

“Hey, Jeremy. You know that John once tried to drink milk from a cow by sucking on her udder?”

John tensed in his hold immediately and a growl escaped his throat. 

“Oh my,” Jeremy gasped, first out of surprise, then out of excitement. “Oh, that’s perfect Mr. Marston, keep that face. The scars are giving you such a frightening look.”

With a smirk, Arthur turned to furious John.

“You promised to never tell anyone!” he hissed, his face red with anger.

“Knowing this fella, he’ll forget about that by the morning,” he assured the younger man, but not enough to calm him down. It wasn’t his goal. To fuel the fire burning inside of John right now, Arthur kept the smirk on his face, knowing that right now it was enough to keep him at least mildly angry. “Now keep that angry face, Johnny. You’re pissed, aren’t you?”

“So much,” he gritted through his teeth.

Arthur put his face really close, closer that it was probably necessary. “Then show it, big boy.”

And John did, so good that when Jeremy took the photo and started babbling about it, John still had a sneer on his face. Once again Arthur found himself aroused and barely stopped himself from pushing John onto the bed and attacking him with kisses and bites to his lips till he would bleed from them.

He only couldn’t do one of those things. Not for the camera, not with Jeremy as an audience. 

When John released him, Arthur pushed him onto the bed like in his fantasy. The younger man gaped at him when he landed on a soft bed, he kept watching Arthur as he stood between his spread legs and placed his foot on the bed between them, inches from his crotch.

“Uh, I think it’s a little too much for the paper,” John noticed, the red on his face now only dusting his cheeks as he blushed, nervously looking towards Jeremy.

“Not at all,” the photographer assured them. Arthur leaned comfortably over his raised knee and just observed helplessly looking John. “The newspaper is in love with your first session together, they wanted another immediately, no holding back as the boss said it. He really loved you two together.” Interesting, Arthur thought. He was either a beauty appreciator like Jeremy, or was like them and wanted to look at two men in certain situations. “That’s why I gave you all this freedom, you know the best what will have the right amount of subtext.”

“This has none,” John pointed out, still shy about all this. He even scoffed at Arthur to show how displeased he was with this. “It can’t be interpreted as anything other but sodomy.”

Jeremy smiled at him, for a moment looking from behind his camera. “You’re overestimating people, Mr. Marston. People who want to see a rich man showing an outlaw his place will see just that. A lot of people who are living in fear of being robbed, will love to see those photos as triumph over bandits. Women will see two attractive men, other men will see a scene of robbery played in front of them. And people like you two will see it for what it is.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Arthur noticed. He wasn’t that worried, their names were safe and they weren’t living in the city to really be afraid of being recognized.

“It’s exactly how it works, Mr. Morgan,” Jeremy assured him with another smile. “Trust me, I've been a photographer for ten years now. I took pictures I wanted to show stories with and people completely misinterpreted them. I photographed two women in a loving embrace, two lovers, they never hid it from me. You know what people visiting the gallery were saying after seeing all the love in their eyes?”

“What?” John asked, looking more comfortable now.

“They seem to be very good friends.” Jeremy laughed like it was the best joke he ever heard. “Don’t you worry, people deny homosexuality a lot. They don’t even think about it because people like you hide all the time. Unless they see two men or women kiss, all the hugs, the closeness? That’s just two close friends to people. I’m sure even a light kiss wouldn’t be enough, especially among men. Just walk around Saint Denis, men greet each other with kisses to the lips all the time. But of course, I wouldn’t dare to risk sending a photo of a kiss to any newspaper.”

“Could you take one anyway?” John asked quietly, shyly. Arthur looked at him surprised but John stubbornly avoided his gaze.

“Hmm?” Jeremy didn’t hear him, he was just about to take the next photo and he was focused on that.

“Of us.” John pointed at himself and Arthur. “Kissing, just for us.”

Jeremy didn’t look surprised by this at all, he wasn’t shocked, he just smiled warmly.

“With pleasure,” he answered. “Now back to the roles, please. You can keep the surprised face you had at first, Mr. Marston, it was fitting.”

“Alright.”

Arthur smirked one more time and tried to look confident, like someone who just won a fight and now his enemy was at his mercy, but deep down he was shaking and his heart was beating fast. John wanted them to have a picture of them kissing. And Jeremy was willing to make it happen.

It took all of Arthur’s will to not kiss his lover right now, that would have to wait for another, more private session. Because Arthur wasn’t going to stop at just one photo of them kissing when he had an opportunity to be photographed like any other couple, without the need to hide his true feeling and without playing John’s brother or a friend.

They weren’t going to pretend for those photos.

The first session with John was already amazing but this one? Arthur and John never had this much fun together with finding new ways to show their characters, not always in such bold poses like the two Arthur came up with. Jeremy couldn’t stop praising them, even when they were done for the day. 

He told them when to meet him the next time, gave them more letters from Arthur fans and told them their first session together would be printed shortly in one of the papers, along with Arthur’s second session while the third one would soon be presented in Saint Denis gallery where Jeremy bought the exhibition.

Arthur and John left the hotel room happier than ever in those last few weeks, their pockets full with money they soon would have enough to start a new life that didn’t look so scary anymore now that they had a honest job they liked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added two new tags, one for relationship, the other is about non-con that is mentioned pretty vaguely but I still decided to put a warning.

After their pictures were printed in one of the newspapers, it didn’t take long for the gang to find out about it. While only John noticed Arthur’s first session, or at least was the only one to confront him about it, the second one and the one they did together was noticed by everyone a day later. They were just eating a small breakfast before their meeting with Jeremy when Micah approached them, a newspaper in his hand.

“I see you found a new job, boys,” he said mockingly, throwing the paper at John’s lap, almost knocking off his oatmeal. “Seems fitting, such pretty faces like yours.”

“You think our faces are pretty?” John asked with a smirk. He sounded confident, but Arthur sitting next to him could feel him shaking slightly. From anger? Fear? He had no idea yet.

Micah didn’t like that question and grimaced, sitting across from them.

“Why are you doing it, huh?” He leaned towards them, trying to look intimidating to force them to spill.

“None of your business,” Arthur told him, narrowing his eyes at him. Micah squinted back and looked at them closely.

“So you’re hiding something,” he decided, smug about his discovery. Arthur wanted to punch him so bad. “Right when we need loyalty as much as ever, you two go around keeping secrets from Dutch.”

Loyalty. Some no name from who knows where, who wasn’t riding with them even a year, was talking to them about loyalty for the gang they spent over ten and twenty years in.

Surprisingly, John kept a cool head and didn’t answer the provocation. Not in the way Micah certainly hoped for.

“That’s our way to get money,” he explained calmly, looking Micah straight into the eyes. “We need money, or has the plan changed?”

“Sure, sure, we need money,” Micah confirmed, still watching them both for any crack in their defense, for a way to reveal their lies. “But I didn’t see you two putting anything in the founds recently, pretty boy.”

John gritted his teeth so hard Arthur could hear it and for a second, he thought Micah could too, if the way he smirked was saying anything.

“We didn’t get the payment yet,” Arthur lied easily. Micah turned to him and eyed him with his piercing eyes. Arthur handled worse gazes in the past, he didn’t flinch not even the slightest, even though Micah tried very hard to make him squirm and reveal the truth.

“Really, you’re doing it for free for now?” he questioned. Arthur nodded. “I never thought the two of you were so stupid.”

Micah snorted at the end and finally left them alone, but not before taking back the newspaper. So far, only he seemed to know about the pictures and he was probably going to show them to the rest of the gang.

Arthur patted John's knee and got up. “Let’s go,” he decided. “Before we get another group of fans.”

John smiled and hurriedly ate the rest of his oatmeal on their way to the horses, dropping the bowl and the spoon on the ground when he was finished. If Micah told someone already, they haven’t had time to mock Arthur and John yet.

They were gone the whole day, spending most of it being photographed by Jeremy. Every time they waited for the man to change the plate in his camera, they were reading the letters that got delivered to the newspaper that printed their photos. Each letter was only from Saint Denis for now, not surprisingly from rich women but there were two or three written by men.

While letters from women were often heavily perfumed and full of sweet language, complimenting John’s and Arthur's beauty(one was even very erotic and made them both kind of flattered but also very disturbed by some of the suggestions), those three from men were mostly focusing on praising the way a beautiful, manly friendship was portrayed in those pictures.

Sure. Manly friendship.

Just like Jeremy assured them, nobody even thought to think about them in any other way than friends. Their first session together wasn't even that suggestive but still, people only saw what they wanted to see – two close friends acting like two close friends.

The session, this time portraying two outlaws, was a lot of fun, mostly indoors where they took a lot of pictures. After that, they moved outside to take the last couple of photos, catching the attention of people walking on the streets. They were often taking a stop and watching the session in progress. It made things a little awkward at first, it was still a new thing for John and Arthur was mostly used to only Jeremy being present during photoshoots.

People were distracting too, often commenting loud, especially if they recognized Arthur and John from the paper. Both of them never thought of themselves as very attractive, no matter what the other one was always saying, so it was strange to stand there and be ogled by a couple of women while their husbands were standing right next to them with fascination and something like respect on their faces.

They were used to hearing comments about themselves, Arthur couldn’t count how many times one of them heard something along the lines of ‘hey, big guy’ or ‘aren’t you good enough to eat’, but nothing could prepare them for this. It wasn’t that intrusive and whenever ladies shared their opinions, it was mostly in a hushed voice between themselves, but sometimes they stood close enough that they could hear those whispers filled with appreciation.

“Look at them shoulders.”

“I wonder if he’s as dangerous as he looks.”

“Oh my, he could fit both of my wrists in his one palm.”

“Them scars…”

It was awkward and uncomfortable. They felt like some pieces of meat hung in front of dogs. Almost like those women forgot they’re looking at real people this time, not at their pictures in the press.

Jeremy heard those hushes too, probably even more and he was almost constantly sending them ensuring smiles to help them relax. It wasn’t easy but ignoring the crowd seemed to do the trick and they were able to finish the photoshoot in good moods. They didn’t even shy away from more suggestive images and when John proposed lighting up one cigarette from the other, which required them to get their face very close, Arthur didn’t protest. Nor Jeremy. One or two women gasped when they watched for a few seconds as their faces were just inches apart and they stared into each other’s eyes.

Arthur had no idea what people thought of that, if anyone felt the tension that was surrounding them for this photo, if anyone recognized it for what it was. If they did, people didn’t bother, because when Jeremy announced loudly, only to Arthur and John but the crowd heard too, that the photoshoot was finished, people started clapping like they just witnessed a show in the theater. Maybe it was like a show for them. Arthur wouldn’t clap but if he saw something like that happening on the streets, he would stay to watch.

Not knowing how to react, Arthur and John just lowered their hats over their eyes and joined Jeremy, feeling somewhat safe with him next to them. The photographer had no problem with the attention, he even stopped packing the camera to chat with a few people, explain what they were doing and where it would be possible to view the pictures.

Arthur and John just stood at the side, pretending they weren't there, trying to smoke in peace.

“Excuse me?” They almost jumped when they heard a feminine voice behind them. “Hello, my name is Georgia Tuscan. I just wanted to say you looked very lovely.”

“Um, thank you,” John responded awkwardly, with a cigarette still in his mouth. He didn’t say his name back, they needed to stay anonymous. “That’s very kind of you, ma’am.”

Georgia smiled at them, thankfully not seductively, it was just a simple warm smile.

“I really liked your pictures in the newspaper too,” she kept saying, still smiling. There was admiration in her eyes but it was lacking the lust that was sensible in the gazes of some other women. Georgie really just liked them for being ‘lovely’ as she said it. “It’s good to finally see something nice in the newspaper instead of another horrible news about outlaws. I like pretend outlaws better, you’re doing a great job.”

This time Arthur decided to speak up. “Thank you, really.” He returned Georgia’s smile, even if a little shyly. “But we do nothing, it’s Mr. Heathfield doing all the work.”

“Without you, those pictures would be plain,” she pointed out and giggled. “I hope I’ll soon see you in another print, sirs. You make such a lovely couple.”

What?

Before they could ask what she meant, Georgia was gone, disappearing somewhere in the crowd. They looked for her and finally found her walking away, her hand hooked around the arm of some man.

When she was completely gone from their sight, John turned sharply to Arthur and grabbed him by the laps of his coat.

“She fucking knew!” John hissed distressed.

“Calm yourself, Marston, people are watching.” Arthur swapped his hands away and straightened his coat. “She knew but she didn’t care. So just relax and try to look normal till Jeremy stops talking.”

They would go right now but Jeremy forgot to pay them earlier and he left all of his money in the hotel room.

When Jeremy finally stopped talking, John and Arthur were on their third smoke and very agitated to leave. They should’ve just gone and waited for Jeremy at his hotel instead of staying with him. After Georgia, a couple more people came to chat with them. John and Arthur humbly received praises about their theatrical talent to act, their looks, how beautiful their friendship was, and tried not to say something dumb or inappropriate in response. Talking with rich people was exhausting, especially when those people weren’t treating them like some dumb farmers, but like one of them, which resulted with question about their business, from which family they came from and how did they managed to look so convincing as dirty outlaws.

After hearing they were just models and not old or new money, people were surprised but didn’t lose interest. If anything, it made them more curious how some two men from almost the very bottom of the classes found a job like that. It was hard to tell if it was an insult or not.

Overall, people were rather polite and liked what Arthur and John were doing so there was no worry about the sales of next newspapers. Citizens of Saint Denis wanted more cowboys and outlaws in their life.

They had no idea how much they would get in just a few days and then again.

After leaving Jeremy’s with their money and returning to the camp, Arthur and John stopped for a few drinks at the saloon, staying far away from that rich place in the middle of the city. In the poorer district they weren’t bothered as much. People around there didn’t have time for newspapers, most of them didn’t even know how to read so they wouldn’t even think about taking some newspaper to look at the pictures. It was probably only a matter of time till even the poor would know about this but still, there was no chance the interest would be as big as among the rich. Again, those people were too busy for such nonsense.

They dreaded the return to the camp where Micah most likely told everyone about the pictures. There was nothing to be ashamed about but they would prefer to not be the targets of dumb jokes that were surely awaiting them.

The first one was heard even before they rode into the camp.

“Our stars are back!” Lenny shouted loudly.

Arthur and John cringed, having enough of this already. And nothing really started yet.

“Had fun in the grass again, boys?” Karen asked, joining them by the horses already. “Or maybe they put you in the lake this time to show more chest?”

“I can’t swim,” John said simply and went past her, using his saddle like a shield.

“Oh don’t be like that, it’s just teasing!” she shouted after him and chuckled before turning to Arthur and watching him closely for something.

“What?” he asked her, a little bit harsh but he could already tell this was going to be an annoying evening.

“Ain’t you buttoned too much?” she asked, pointing at his shirt’s collar. “Pop open three more buttons. Or the whole thing, we all want to see.”

Arthur sighed and followed John after dumping his saddle inside the house. John was already by the fire where there were some of the gang members who already started their teasing. Micah was among them, very pleased of himself, listening to taunts.

“Had fun playing cowboys, Morgan?” Javier asked with a wide grin on his face. “Catch John on a lasso again?”

“Shut up, Javier,” Arthur responded. He probably could’ve said something smarter, that was just telling Javier he hit a sore spot and encouraged him to do it again. But Arthur was so beat by everything he just wanted to eat and go to sleep. With a tired sigh, he sat heavily next to John.

“Closer, you don’t look convincing enough,” Sadie told them, sitting on a chair with one leg on another and head propped on a fisted palm. “Don’t be shy.”

They didn’t say a word to this. John shared the food he grabbed earlier and they just ate, happily ignoring the taunts.

“Wait, I'm confused,” Bill spoke up.

“That’s nothing new,” Javier laughed. Oblivious Bill didn’t react.

“So are they,” he pointed at John and Arthur. “Homo, you know, inverts?”

Arthur was very glad for the fire that covered his and John’s pale faces right now.

“Care to elaborate, boys?” Micah asked, nastily, staring at them with triumph.

“Nothing to elaborate,” Arthur answered carefully, not deciding yet if they should lie or admit what they were. They weren't attacked on the spot so chances were that everyone was okay with having inverts in the camp – not for long – or they just simply wanted to wait for confirmation to start the killing.

“So all those doe eyes you were making at each other was just a play?” Javier asked, already not believing in what they had to say.

“You looked very close to kiss,” Sadie noticed, enjoying herself. “Couple of times.”

“And all this sensual holding,” Micah added mockingly.

“I'm not surprised anything is suspicious to you,” John snapped at him. “Nobody would touch someone like you so any touch is perverted to you.”

“Watch your tone, boy,” Micah warned.

“You watch your tone, Micah,” Arthur said back, feeling protective of John.

“Why are you so defensive if it ain’t true, Morgan?” Arthur wanted to curse himself for biting the hook, casted by Micah of all people. “You two camera lovers have something to share after all?”

Everyone was watching them, expecting another denial. Arthur had it on the tip of his tongue when suddenly John grabbed him, turned his face towards himself and kissed him full on the lips in front of all the gang. Even those who were away and watched the whole conversation from afar, were staring at them now in shock. Arthur didn’t know if it was caused by the revelation or John’s boldness, probably the boldness since everyone seemed to be sure by now that they were lovers.

What John did wasn't just an innocent press of the lips. He crashed them together and pushed his tongue inside Arthur's mouth to show everyone it was far from platonic kiss between friends, it was more than that. Arthur moaned without even meaning to, it just slipped out when he felt John’s tongue touching his and one of his hands curling in the hair at the nape of his neck, bringing him closer.

His eyes were open, he could see how tight shut John kept his and how red from embarrassment his face was. He didn’t want to do it like that yet he did to shut everyone up and he succeeded, because when John separated their lips, nobody was saying anything.

With confusion, Arthur watched his lover's face, looking for any clue that would tell him the exact reason why he did that but John only smiled apologetically and turned back to his food.

“You have your answer, Micah,” Sadie spoke first, amused. “Congrats, boys.”

Arthur looked at her, surprised by the acceptance in her eyes. Others weren’t feeling strange about him and John actually being inverts either. Bill looked like he finally understood everything and that made him happy, Javier shrugged and grabbed a bottle with beer he had between his legs.

People watching from afar were okay too. Charles just nodded at Arthur, silently approving, Pearson didn’t care, same as Strauss and Uncle who Arthur could swear winked at him. The Reverend just stared and then turned around, girls looked shocked, except Abigail. Jack was mostly confused, Susan got back to work like nothing happened and Kieran blushed under Arthur's gaze before turning around and running somewhere. And… No, that was all. Lenny didn’t see anything, Dutch and Hosea weren't there, Molly disappeared somewhere two days ago and Sean was dead. There was no one else.

Except Micah, who looked straight out disgusted.

“Well, I was just joking but it’s nice to know we have homosexuals in the camp.” He spat right in front of their feet and stood up. “Stay away from me, will you?”

“Nobody wants to touch you anyway, remember?!” John yelled after him and spat too. “Prick.”

“Amen to that,” Javier agreed and drank for that. He took a few big gulps and with a content sigh, after he removed the bottle from his lips, he smirked at Arthur and John. “So, you gonna put on dresses for one of the photoshoots next?”

Sadie joined with the teasing too. “Don’t forget to show some more chest.”

Arthur and John shared a look, not expecting more teasing but at least it was about their job as models, not about them being homosexuals. It was still annoying but more bearable and it went on till Dutch showed up, with Hosea walking behind him, looking like a ghost. Arthur watched him worried but when Hosea and his eyes met, the older man just smiled.

“End with the jokes, Javier, change Lenny on the guard.”

“But I had guard duty during the day!” Javier protested but Dutch didn’t care. “I haven’t even slept!”

“I need Lenny with me tomorrow, he needs to be well rested,” the leader explained and then looked at Arthur, John and Bill. “You three, go to bed and I don’t care if you’ll share.” The last words were clearly aimed at just Arthur and John. “We’re going after Bronte tomorrow night, so no visiting city to make silly pictures.”

They didn’t have a session anyway. Jeremy had so much material he had no idea what to do with it or to who to sell it.

Everyone did what Dutch told them. Because Dutch was seemingly okay with them, Arthur and John went to the same room. John’s had a big hole in the wall, so the choice for the night was obvious.

“Why the hell did you do that?” Arthur asked when they were undressing.

“What?”

John wasn’t looking at him, busy with pulling his pants down his ridiculously long legs.

Arthur tossed his shirt at him, it landed perfectly on the black mop of hair. “You know what, don’t play dumb.”

John took the shirt and sighed, finally looking at Arthur. “I wanted them to shut up,” he admitted and the reason was exactly the same as Arthur suspected. Only it wasn’t everything yet, Arthur could see it in his lover’s eyes that avoided his again, looking at the floor instead. “And I’m tired of hiding,” he added quietly. “We’ll be gone soon anyway.”

Arthur walked closer to him and stopped his hands from opening the buttons of his shirt. He grabbed them gently and caressed the knuckles with his thumbs, watching how good their palms fit together and imagining how nice it would be to hold John’s hand like that in public.

He was tired of hiding too but that would never end. The gang didn’t care but people like Micah were everywhere.

“But we’re not yet,” he reminded worriedly, briefly looking at the door that had no lock in them. Anyone could enter at night, surprise them. Attack. “You risked getting us lynched. Hell, Micah can still try.”

“Let him try,” John said confidently, squeezing Arthur's hands back and looking him into the eyes. “I’ll have an excuse to kill that bastard.”

Arthur snorted and leaned forward to connect their lips in a less urgent manner than earlier in front of others. This kiss was sweet and just theirs to share.

“Soon,” Arthur promised breathily, their noses touching after the kiss. John nuzzled them together and placed another kiss on Arthur’s lips.

“Soon,” he confirmed and let go of the hands in his hold. Arthur didn’t try to hide how disappointed he was, or how immediately cold his hands felt.

They finished undressing and laid down in bed, having no choice but to squeeze tightly against each other despite the enormous heat that was always present in Shady Belle.

They hated the swamps.

Around the same time next day, they were cramped in a boat heading towards Bronte’s mansion. Arthur was nervous, not knowing what to expect apart from a lot of gun fire. That was something he was fine with, he wasn’t scared of that, or rather was scared but he was used to this fear. But he wasn’t used to the new Dutch that was sitting at the front of the boat(Pearson would tell him the right terminology, even if Arthur wouldn’t care. It was a boat and it had a front, nothing more to know.) It was impossible to tell what the other man was thinking, what exactly he was planning, he never told, he was just saying how Bronte was going to pay. Arthur really hoped it was literal.

John was sitting next to him, having a scare of his own, having doubts. He played with his suspenders, his mind elsewhere, sure hoping his body could be there as well, along with Arthur.

It was a quick action. Like always, they were disciplined and everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing. Bronte’s guards weren’t as challenging as Arthur feared they would. After dealing with those outside and on the balcony, he opened the door with a shotgun blast and they entered.

He didn’t like that he and John were supposed to get Bronte, as if Dutch wanted them to present the mobster on a silver plate for him and finally understand why they were going after him anyway.

They understood shit, in the end they were only more convinced it was a bad idea from the very beginning. The police already heard the fight and was storming the mansion. Running away with a dead weight on your shoulder wasn’t easy and if it weren't for others protecting him from enemies’ fire, Arthur would’ve died in that mansion. Somehow, they all survived and disappeared in a fog hovering above the swamps.

Bronte regained consciousness before they reached the land. He tried to buy them with money, to make them turn against Dutch. Despite wanting to run away, Arthur didn’t consider it even for a second. He wanted a normal life with John, but not by selling Dutch, and certainly not to someone like Bronte.

At this point, Arthur expected them to keep Bronte for a ransom. That’s why he was completely shocked when furious Dutch drowned the man in a murky water and then threw the body out of the boat, right for the alligator that was swimming towards them.

Lenny and Bill followed Dutch once they stepped on land, Arthur and John stayed behind and watched from a pier as the alligator was rolling in the water with its jaws closed around its meal, tearing Bronte’s body apart.

“Shit,” John cursed under his breath. Arthur couldn’t even say that.

That was… That was unlike Dutch. That was murder in cold blood. It was the complete opposite of what Dutch was always teaching them. He was really becoming scared of what Dutch was turning into and what that would bring on them all.

“Arthur,” John spoke up again, turning to Arthur with panicked eyes. “We need to go. I'm not going to rob that bank, we’ll be killed.”

“Yeah,” he nodded in agreement and gulped. “Yeah, okay. How much money do we get?”

John brushed his hair nervously, trying to remember.

“Around five hundred?” They weren't counting, they thought they had more time. “Something like that.”

“Okay, that should do it,” Arthur decided. “We can go even now, we have enough money to keep us fed and get us roof over our head for months. And we’re still working with Jeremy so the money will keep flowing.”

“We don’t need money from the bank,” John said. They were wondering if they should wait before leaving to have more money but that was too risky now. The old Dutch would be as careful as possible while planning the robbery in the middle of the city filled with police. New Dutch was most likely to ride blindly without much of the plan. They heard some of it, there was supposed to be distraction to draw the law away but now with Bronte being dead? It was unlikely that the police wouldn’t be ready for them. After today and the post office, they had to expect them by now.

“Let’s wait for when Dutch will want to rob the bank. We’ll go the day before.”

It wasn’t right, Dutch would have everything planned with them in mind and they were going to bail on him at the last moment. But maybe there was still time to stop this madness. Arthur had to at least try.

The next day everything seemed normal in the camp, like nothing big happened the night before. Lenny was pleased with how the attack turned out, why wouldn’t he? He didn’t know Dutch long enough to be scared by his weird behavior and he was just a kid, he aimed to please the leader. Bill… Bill just wasn't thinking at all.

Micah was praising Dutch for killing Bronte, which was making any attempts at convincing Dutch to forget about the bank useless. Arthur tried his best, backed by John and Hosea, even Charles once mentioned it’s too dangerous but Dutch didn’t want to listen. He did at first, even agreed with some of his friends' concerns. But Dutch was so fixated about this bank, about going to Tahiti or something and harvesting mangoes, that no amount of arguments was able to convince him.

After the half day of nagging, he just became angry and told everyone to leave him alone. Hosea was heartbroken and Arthur was pretty sure he almost cried when he realized the people he cared so much about were most likely going to be killed in a few days.

After two free days, Arthur and John returned to Jeremy for another session. The photographer babbled how much the newspapers were loving the photos. He had more letters sent by both women and men, every single one praising their photos. Arthur wondered when the first hateful letter would appear, because he wouldn’t believe that it would never happen.

Jeremy also had another great news. He tossed a pack of premium cigarettes at them and when John opened it, there was a card with Arthur’s drawing in it. They could already be bought and they looked great. The painter only used the poses, every clothes he painted was the man’s idea. At the card they had, Arthur was dressed like a rancher.

He wouldn’t mind dressing like that for real.

They spent the whole day outside of the city and posing helped them relax. Not enough for Jeremy to not notice but it wasn't as bad as this one day at the harbor. Jeremy was pleased and so were they.

“Oh, my friend contacted me, he’s coming from Chicago, he would really like to photograph you and show you in Illinois,” Jeremy said to them before they parted their ways. “I’ll introduce you when he arrives, he should be here in a few days, his telegram from a few days ago arrived today. If that’s okay, of course.”

“If he pays us, we will pose for him,” John answered with a half shrug.

“Of course he’ll pay, he’s a very honest man,” Jeremy assured excitedly. “He’ll be so happy to hear this!”

“I hope he’s not as weird,” John mumbled under his nose, still not used to Jeremy’s quirks.

The next day, Dutch had a plan ready.

“We’ll attack in three days,” he announced to the whole gang. “Hosea and I came out with the best plan.”

If Hosea was helping and not this maniac Micah, then maybe this robbery could work. Still, John and Arthur weren’t going to be there to witness or help with it. Few hours later, when everyone already knew their part and how the whole plan would work, John and Arthur joined Dutch in his room.

“Can we talk?” Arthur asked. It pained him what he was going to say next but he and John had no choice.

Dutch looked at them from his book, noticing the worry in their eyes right away.

“You want to ask if you can leave,” he guessed and chuckled sadly at their shocked expression. “It was pretty obvious after you kissed. And all the rides to the city to work but not bringing anything back to camp.”

“Well, Strauss brought a dead rat lately, so I think we deserve the slack,” John joked to lighten the mood. But even the best joke wouldn’t help right now. This whole thing was making all three of them miserable. “We’re sorry, Dutch.”

The older man nodded and tiredly rubbed at his eyes. “I understand,” he said and stood up, looking at them with sadness. “You’re in love, there is no place for believes in that.”

“I believe in your ideology, Dutch. But I don’t have to, or want to, die for it,” Arthur explained. He didn’t want Dutch to think they were betraying him or didn’t believe in what he taught them. “I would do anything for you but that and it isn’t right of you to ask that from us. From any of us.”

“You changed,” John added quietly. “You killed an innocent woman in cold blood. And Bronte… Christ, he had my kid and even I wouldn’t feed him to the gators, Dutch. You changed and we don’t want to risk for nothing. For something that isn’t even your ideology anymore.”

“This ain’t nothing, John.” Dutch got closer to them and gripped John by the shoulders. “After this bank, we will finally be free. You could go with us and stay or choose your own path from now on with your share.”

“We can’t risk it, Dutch,” Arthur said sadly. He would want nothing more than to stay and help and then leave, part ways on better terms, not like this, almost cowardly. But he wanted to live. He never expected to live longer than thirty years. He passed that and was sure he wouldn’t live forty. He didn’t even want that, be older and older and still rob like in his young years. Now when he had a chance for a safer life and to try something new, be that being a model or someone else entirely, he wanted to live even past sixty. “We are taking Abigail and Jack with us. I’m sorry. We wished things was different.”

“Me too, son,” Dutch admitted, is voice trembling. Arthur was sure that if he tried to speak again, his voice would tremble too. “You have my blessing.”

They expected it to go much worse with how Dutch was acting recently, suspecting everyone of being a rat, having an angry outburst when someone was telling him he was wrong. But this, he accepted calmly. Whatever was happening with him, whatever mean spirit possessed him, it wasn’t strong enough to erase the love he had for his boys.

They packed quietly, not informing anyone yet apart from Abigail and Jack so they could pack as well. They didn’t have much and they were getting ready for it since Bronte’s murder so it didn’t take long and in few minutes, all four of them and Cain were ready to go. Dutch waited for them outside, smoking a cigar. When they left the house, he actually called everyone to share the news.

“As much as I wanted my sons to stay, sadly, I had to let them go their own way,” Dutch explained his decision. Not everyone was happy with it, some gang members felt betrayed, others were just angry or sad. Some of them were probably hating them right now. “This gang is not a prison so if anyone wants to go with them, then be my guest.”

Arthur wished for Hosea to join them. And the girls and Lenny before he could die too young like Sean. They would gladly take all of them except Micah but no one wanted to join. Maybe it was for the best, someone had to take care of the gang now they would be gone.

Those who weren’t angry said their goodbyes and wished them good luck, with Charles and Hosea as the last ones.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Charles promised while hugging Arthur tight.

“You’ll hear from us from Tahiti,” Hosea added next to them when he was hugging John. When they were done, Hosea kneeled next to Jack and ruffled his hair. “You keep learning how to read, alright?”

“Yes, uncle Hosea.”

The boy hugged him, not wanting to let go, even when Abigail tried to take him away because it was time to leave.

With the money they had, they could rent a hotel room but they didn’t want to worry about people walking around all the time and noisy staff members asking if they needed anything. So they rented an apartment in one of the less representative parts of the city. It was small, with only one bedroom, cramped dayroom and with an outhouse outside for everyone living in the building but it was still more comfortable than some of the camps they lived in. They would be fine.

After Abigail and Jack fall asleep in the bedroom, John and Arthur sat down on a worn out couch and drank some beers they sneaked out with them, drinking for their new life and looking at the bright city outside of the window.

Jeremy’s friend arrived the next day and decided he wouldn’t even rest after a very long trip in a stagecoach from Chicago to Saint Denis. Jeremy introduced them in the park, his friend, Victor Greenberg, was much calmer than the eccentric photographer but just as passionate about his work. He wasn’t much into his models playing different people but rather wanted to capture them as they were, the emotions on their faces. Every photo he took of them, together or separately, was about their expressions so they had to look into the camera every time. It was new but still enjoyable for Arthur and John. And it took less time than with Jeremy, who wanted to catch up with his friend so he didn’t have any work for them.

With the rest of the day for themselves, John and Arthur decided to walk around the city.

“How long are we gonna stay here?” John asked, his fingers brushing against Arthur’s from time to time.

“Till we can afford something outside of the city, I guess,” Arthur responded. “Hopefully far enough to escape the smell of factories.”

“We should go north,” John decided.

“North? Why there?”

“After spending most of my life in the west, I could use some actual winters,” John admitted with a grin, boldly hooking their fingers together for a few seconds before dropping them and going back to brushing.

“You don’t have enough after Colter?” Arthur teased and John actually grimaced. “And there are wolves there.”

“Fair point,” he sighed frustrated. “Where do you want to live?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t think much of it. He would be happy anywhere at this point. “As long as I'm not stuck in the city, I’m good.”

John chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Can’t argue with that.”

Some people recognized them on their walk. John was especially easy to recognize with his scars and when someone would recognize him and notice he was with someone, they would recognize Arthur as well.

It was strange being this recognizable but not ending with the law chasing them. Their wanted posters were replaced with pictures in newspapers and in the local gallery. People loved those and that’s what they were saying whenever someone approached them on the streets.

But it couldn’t be only nice and friendly. By the evening, when streets weren't this crowdy anymore and Arthur and John were just getting back from the dinner, they found their path blocked by three men. They didn’t look like fans.

“How can we help you, gentlemen?”

Arthur decided to be polite and see what it was about.

The man at the front spat on the street and clenched his fists.

“You recognize the name Mildred?” he asked, taking a step towards them. He and his friend were obviously some rich folks, they were standing out like a sore thumb in this part of the town.

“Can’t say that we do,” John responded, watching all three man carefully. “Should we?”

“How about Harriet?” one of the other men asked.

“Or Isabelle.”

Arthur and John looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders.

“My marriage is ruined by you, you bastards!” the man at the front screamed at them. Something in Arthur's head clicked.

“Oh, they wrote to us,” he realized and let out a deep chuckle, sparing a glance at John who was smiling smugly. That was only riling up the three men even more than they already were. “Still don’t really know which letter was from them.”

“We got so many letters,” John added, laughing.

“Usually we don’t resolve problems like this,” one of the men said, taking off his expensive jacket. “But for a week now my wife doesn’t even look at me anymore. She’s busy looking at you two!”

“Can you blame her?”

Perhaps he was unnecessarily cruel but it was way too funny for him to care. And it’s not like it was his fault this men’s wives didn’t want anything to do with them. He and John were just posing, if the ladies preferred to watch them instead of their husbands, then something was wrong in their relationship from the start.

“When we’re done with you, nobody will want to print your faces in the newspaper!” the angry husband growled. They weren’t even going to challenge them for a duel, they were ready for a brawl. Arthur wanted to laugh.

“Show what you got, tough guy,” John encouraged the man who ran at him immediately, right into John’s fist he swung in the last, perfectly calculated second. The man fell unconscious on the spot, followed by one of his friends when Arthur moved out of his way, grabbed him by the back of his neck and banged his head against the nearest wall. The third one didn’t even try to fight, he just ran away like a coward. “So there is that. How many of them could there be in the future?”

“Not every woman writing to us wants to have sex with us so hopefully not that many,” Arthur answered and taking the advantage of the empty streets, he grabbed John’s hand in his and they walked home like this.

They were in the city when Dutch and the gang were robbing the bank. First they heard an explosion that Abigail and Hosea were supposed to cause but since Abigail was with them, someone else joined the old man.

The bank was far away but they still heard shooting when the whole police began to fight back. John and Arthur stood by the window and watched outside. John was standing behind Arthur hugging him, giving and receiving comfort in return while they could only helplessly hear as shots got quieter and then stopped entirely.

They wanted to go and help so desperately but they couldn’t. They had to think of themselves. So they stayed, deciding to go to town the next day and try to find out who, if anyone, survived the robbery.

Before they went to bed, they saw police patrolling the city, looking for someone so at least most of the gang members that were part of the robbery, if not everyone, survived. One officer even came to their apartment, asking if they saw anything suspicious. The men recognized them so he didn’t bother them much and took them for normal citizens, especially when he saw Abigail and Jack. After wishing them good night and advising them to not open anyone, he left them.

A loud knocking woke them up in the middle of the night. The urgency was worrying so they took their guns before they went to open in just their drawers. Charles was standing on the other side of the door and only Charles. They hurried him inside and closed the door after him, making sure he wasn’t followed.

Charles explained what happened. Abigail came to listen to and wept like a baby when their friend delivered the news.

“Hosea and Lenny are dead.”

Arthur felt his heart breaking, not only for Hosea, but for a young Lenny as well. Hosea was already old and constantly sick, there was not much time left for him and it still hurt to hear about him being gone. He was their father, he taught them how to read, write, hunt, keep their clothes clean. He was a little rough and stern sometimes but he loved them and they loved him.

They didn’t cry like Abigail but they didn’t hold the tears inside, letting them fall while they mourned their father, their arms wrapped around each other in fear that they would fall apart otherwise.

When they calmed down a little bit and they felt like they could breathe again, Lenny took Hosea’s place in their minds. He was just a damn kid. Nineteen or something. He was too young to die. Youth wasn't making anyone immortal but the loss of a young person was just unacceptable. This kid deserved better than this, he was supposed to go to a law school, not ride with old and bitter bandits who had no other choice. It just wasn't fair than many old and cruel men still lived while young Lenny lost his life for one of those greedy older men.

But life wasn't fair and Arthur wasn’t a kid himself to naively think it was. Lenny knew what he was getting into, he knew the risk but his loss didn’t hurt any less.

“What about the others?” John asked. Abigail retreated to her room, tired after crying for a man that in the past helped around Jack when John was gone and recently was teaching the boy how to read, just like he did with kid’s Pa years ago.

All three of them had beers in their hands, Arthur decided they needed to drink for Hosea and Lenny. And he needed to drown his sorrow in something.

“I don’t know,” Charles admitted. “After we escaped the police and Pinkertons, who I don’t know how they found about the bank, I tell you, they were ready when we arrived. They caught Hosea, Mary-Beth ran somewhere but they knew where to wait for them.”

“There is a rat,” Arthur realized. Could it be Molly?

“Dutch said it might’ve been you.” And their hearts broke again. After he let them go with his blessing, Dutch now suspected them of selling them out.

“Why would we do that?” John questioned. “We left in peace.”

“Micah said you sold us for immunity.”

“Micah need to shut his fucking mouth,” John growled, angry slamming his bottle on the floor where all three of them were sitting. Only after a few seconds he realized that he should’ve been quiet for Jack and Abigail’s sake.

Charles smiled fondly. Strange sight during those circumstances. “That’s what Sadie told him.”

“Sadie was there?” Arthur asked, surprised.

Their friend nodded. “And Karen too. They replaced you, they were shooting the best out of who was left. Karen was arrested, Dutch said they grabbed her. She’s probably in the arrest.”

They could help her. They should help her but Arthur was too scared to do that and ruin everything he had with John.

“I’ll try to get her out later,” Charles assured, seeing how torn Arthur was. “Dutch tried to get to the boat, said there was no other way out of the city but there was patrols everywhere. I distracted them and that was the last time I’ve seen Dutch and the others. If they made it, they’re probably on one of the boats that was due to sail.”

Arthur slumped against the wall, holding his beer in a loose hold and staring at the dark room. They didn’t dare to light any lamp and risk police getting interested. 

“So he just left with all the money,” he said, rubbing at his tired eyes. “God, this whole robbery was a mess.”

“He said he would be back for us. I’ll gather the others while he’s gone.” Arthur nodded. Charles was the only hope for those who were left in Shady Belle. “Thank you for taking me in.”

“That’s why we gave you the address in the first place,” John reminded him. After renting the apartment, they sent a letter to Shady Belle. The gang wouldn’t attack a kid who was happy to deliver the message after getting one dollar. They specified in the letter that they didn’t want anyone but Charles and Hosea to know where they lived, they wanted to help if needed but they didn’t want the whole gang on their heads. So they only told Hosea and Charles, them they could trust.

“I appreciate this,” Charles admitted. “I considered taking everyone here but that would be just using your hospitality. You started a new life, you don’t need us on your heads.”

“We would probably help anyway,” John chuckled but without any real amusement. “Still, we’re glad it’s only you. You gonna get back to camp in the morning?”

“Yes, the others are probably worried.” Despite the darkness, Arthur and John still saw the guilt in Charles' eyes. “I'm sorry I couldn’t keep them safe. I promised and I failed.”

“You did everything you could, Charles,” Arthur assured him, blindly placing a hand on his shoulder. “This would probably go the same way if we were there. Pinkertons knew when and how you would strike, there was no way out of this mess.”

“I think I could’ve done some things better. Acted differently.” Charles shook his head. “I just hope they are okay out there.”

“Me and you both, friend.”

They hugged briefly, all three of them, finished their beers and went to sleep. Charles left in the morning and they didn’t hear about him or anyone from the gang for weeks.

Life was good. They kept working with Jeremy and other photographers or painters, getting a lot of money out of it. Not to mention women started sending them jewelry and even money sometimes for some weird reason. Who would want to support complete strangers?

Slowly, they were getting more and more money they were going to use to buy their own place. They started saving even more when Abigail, finally being able to interact with other people, not only those around the camp, met some fancy young doctor who swept her out of her feet and didn’t seem to mind that she had a child already and the father was not only alive but present in Jack’s life.

The fact that Abigail wanted to stay in Saint Denis and become a society lady complicated their plan. They couldn’t go anywhere now, John wanted to stay with Jack to see him grow. They didn’t want to live in the city either but the answer to their problem was found quickly when one day, after coming back from a session, they saw a poster on the lamp post they haven’t seen before. Someone wanted to sell Hagen’s Orchard, just outside the city. Close enough for John to have Jack sometimes and far enough to not feel trapped by civilization. Arthur saw this place a couple of times, even entered the property to see if there was something interesting to steal but he was quickly escorted by the guard.

It would do and it was cheap too.

They rode there the next day, hoping they weren't too late. The owner, some young looking man, said he was selling the Orchard after his father’s death. He had no interest or experience in growing oranges and having workers, he was a banker. He was sad to sell this place, it was because of his father’s business they had enough money to send him to school but he would rather give it to someone who knew what they would be doing, then watch it turning into ruin. It was his home after all.

After some more talking and reading the contract through and through, Arthur and John were now the owner of Hagen’s Orchard. They had no idea how to grow oranges either but they had the talk with workers who were there for years and knew their job better than anyone.

Orchard was now permanently theirs, it was another source of money to now pay their new workers and they could start saving again with this and money from photo sessions. After walking around the property, Arthur decided it had enough space for him to build a stable and breed horse. John had nothing against it but still laughed at it when Arthur told him his plans during dinner in their new home(they didn’t wait to move).

“Of course you would want to breed horses,” John told him.

Arthur huffed grumpily but he let himself be coaxed rather quickly with John nuzzling at his neck and dragging him towards their new bedroom. They needed to christen their bed.

With the Orchard being in the good hands of one of the oldest workers, a very nice black man named Joshua who they made their foreman, Arthur and John could continue their work as models. They were now riding farther away from Saint Denis, sometimes they weren't home for days because Jeremy wanted photos in the mountains.

Everything was going so good they were expecting Pinkertons knocking at their doors at any moment but they never showed up. From what they heard, they were around Annesburg, looking for Dutch who supposedly returned to the country, which they heard after someone executed a few O’Driscolls during Colm’s own execution. Arthur and John hoped their friends were okay.

One day a surprising guests arrived in the Orchard. Arthur and John were just eating breakfast on the bench at the back of the house while Jack, who was staying with them this week, was already full and now playing with Cain who was living at Orchard permanently since Abigail couldn’t keep him.

“Don’t bother the workers, Jack,” John reminded his son.

“Yes, Pa!” Jack shouted back and ran away with Cain chasing him and barking happily.

John and Arthur chuckled to themselves and enjoyed the quiet morning. Joshua interrupted it a few minutes later.

“There is someone for you, sirs,” he informed them. “They wait by the front.”

They nodded at Joshua and shared a look, nervous it was Pinkertons coming to get them. They knew it was too good to be true, two outlaws starting new life, being forgotten by law? Impossible.

But it wasn't agent Milton and agent Ross. It was Mary-Beth and Kieran.

“Thank god, Arthur, John, we didn’t know where to go!” Mary-Beth went to hug them while Kieran awkwardly stood where she left him. He smiled shyly at them, holding the reins of a Branwen who had bags on his rump.

Arthur called one of the workers to get the horse while he and John took Mary-Beth and Kieran inside the house and sat them down to tell what happened and how they found them. They didn’t look hurt, just exhausted so they weren't worried much but something must’ve happened if they left the gang.

“Dutch went crazy,” Kieran started speaking. “He returned not so long ago and started messing with Indians.”

“Charles and Sadie tried to stop him but he wasn't listening to anyone,” Mary-Beth added, speaking frantically. “And Susan killed Molly…”

“Molly?” John and Arthur said at the same time.

Mary-Beth nodded. “She said she told Pinkertons about the bank. Dutch was hesitating but Susan wasn’t.”

“Well, that explained why Pinkertons knew about the bank,” John noticed, shaking a little from all the bad news. Arthur couldn’t blame him, he was shaking too. 

“And why they didn’t come for us, Molly didn’t know about any of our plans or that we even left,” Arthur added, standing up to fetch some water.

“So everyone who survived the bank robbery is alive?” John asked to be sure.

“Yes, they returned after behind stranded or Guarma or something.” Guarma. It sounded familiar. Someone during the mayor's party had something to do with Guarma. He was pretty sure there was a rum from there too. “But when they returned, Dutch wasn’t himself anymore.”

“He wasn't himself even before that,” Arthur noticed, purring the cold water to two cups and handing them to the two kids. “He messed with the Indians, then what? How did he do it?”

“We don’t know for sure, he was mostly speaking to Micah about those stuff,” Kieran said. Arthur gritted his teeth and felt John grabbing his hand tightly under the table. Fucking Micah. Why did Hosea and Lenny die while he survived? “But a chief showed up once, asking Sadie for another help, I guess she was working for them on the side. Dutch didn’t like that. Others went with her and Charles, Dutch too. Only we, the girls, Pearson, Reverend, Uncle, Trelawny, Susan, Micah and his two friends stayed. Sadie threw Strauss out after he asked her to collect some money from someone and she found out he lent money to people who would never be able to pay in time. One of them even died trying to make money. She was so furious.

“I thought she was going to kill the man,” Kieran admitted, holding the cup with shaking hands.

“She almost did.” Mary-Beth took a big sip of her water, John and Arthur waited for her to continue with the story. “After Sadie and the boys went to help the Indians, two days later Bill and Javier returned, then Dutch and he was talking about traitors being everywhere. He was cruising you, Charles and Sadie for betraying him.”

“That’s when people started to flee,” Kieran followed with the story. “Karen was first, she left one day, drunk as they can be. After Charles broke her out of the jail, she was… strange. I guess something really horrible happened there.”

Mary-Beth sobbed, covering her mouth. Arthur and John had a pretty good idea what happened.

“I’m not even sure if she’s alive,” she cried. Kieran wrapped his arms around her. They must’ve grown very close while John and Arthur left. They always were close in a way. 

“Next was Trelawny, then Uncle and Reverend,” Kieran continued for the poor girl. “We were so scared when more people started to run so we did too, with Tilly and Pearson but we split up. I don’t know if anyone else left but probably not.”

“Susan wouldn’t do that,” John agreed. “Javier and Bill are too loyal. And Micah… Well, Micah had his own reasons to stay, whatever they was.”

“We don’t know if Sadie and Charles came back but if they did, they stayed with Dutch who is crazy.”

“We didn’t know where to go so we returned to Saint Denis in hope that you was still here. We asked around town about you and someone finally pointed us to the newspaper office. They told us about Jeremy Heathfield and he told us where to find you.”

They would have to have a talk with Jeremy about speaking to people about them. Mary-Beth and Kieran probably looked desperate and scared enough to pass as harmless people in need but Arthur didn’t trust Jeremy’s judgment enough to not tell too much to the wrong persons.

Arthur and John knew they had to do something, help their friends. They couldn’t just leave them after something that traumatic. Kieran was handling it pretty well because he wasn't that attached to the gang yet but Mary-Beth was and it clearly pained her that her friends were god knows where and the family she knew was broken.

They looked into each other’s eyes and nodded, already knowing what they needed to do.

“You can stay here for now,” John told them.

“We don’t want to intrude,” Mary-Beth protested quickly. “You have your own life now, we just hoped you could point us some directions, where to go next.”

“It’s no problem,” Arthur assured them. “We have enough space. Well, not at the moment, Jack is staying with us and he sleeps with us in our bed because we don’t have another bedroom but you can sleep there with him and we’ll use bedrolls.”

Just like in their apartment in Saint Denis. They didn’t think they would have to sleep like that again.

“Jack is here?” Kieran asked. John nodded. “What about Miss Roberts?”

“Soon it will be Mrs. Crawford,” Arthur noticed and explained more after seeing surprised expressions on his friend’s faces. “She met someone, she’s in love.”

“Oh, that’s good, She was so heartbroken when she lost John.” Mary-Beth smiled through tears. “Thank you both but you don’t have to give us your bed. It would be awkward knowing the nature of your relationship.” They both blushed at that and Mary-Beth chuckled. Kieran looked amused too but stopped when John glared at him. The boy sank in his chair, suddenly looking very small even next to Mary-Beth. “We’ll sleep on the bedrolls, you keep the bed.”

“If you insist.”

Arthur felt weird with making a woman sleep on the floor while he would be in a bed but Mary-Beth could be stubborn when she wanted to. 

“So, how did you get such a nice house?” she asked, changing the topic for something lighter.

Before one of them could answer, a very excited Jack ran into the house with Cain on his heels.

“Pa, uncle Arthur, look what Cain… Mary-Beth!” he screamed and jumped into her lap, hugging him tightly and being hugged back right away. “You’re back.”

“For now,” she confirmed and pulled his face away to take a look. “You grew, Jack.”

Jack giggled. “No I didn’t,” he denied and looked over her shoulder at Kieran. “O’Driscoll.”

Arthur and John laughed when they saw Kieran’s offended face.

“I ain’t an O’Driscoll,” he protested, pouting like a child. Mary-Beth giggled and turned to him, grabbing his hand gently while still keeping Jack steady with the other. Kieran relaxed a little and smiled at her, blushing. 

“You’ll always be an O’Driscoll, Kieran,” John said to him and patted his arm, a little too hard because the boy winced.

“You’re lucky you’re bad at being one,” Arthur added with a chuckle. “Otherwise you would’ve been dead a long time ago.”

“Arthur,” Mary-Beth scolded him.

Arthur sent her a playful smile and then asked both of them if they were hungry. While he prepared more food, they listened to Jack talking about Cain finding and killing some green parrot, and then John proceeded to explain how they got the Orchard. In return, Mary-Beth told them about everything that happened after Charles got them into safety and where the gang buried Hosea and Lenny. It turned out their graves were not so far. They went there first thing in the morning, paying their respect and apologizing for not being there to help. Maybe if they were there, these two would still be alive.

Not long after Mary-Beth and Kieran came seeking shelter in their home, John returned from a solo session with a newspaper. On the first page there was information about the train robbery performed by Van Der Linde gang and how Pinkertons found the body of a woman in a place where the gang was hiding. Unless the gang kidnapped some poor woman only to kill her, this body could belong to only one person. 

Arthur sighed, bent his head over the table and begged whatever entity that was listening, for everyone else to end up okay. No matter how much bad Dutch caused the gang, those people were still their family, they wanted them to be safe. Just no more deaths.

The same night, they had a visitor. The knocking startled Mary-Beth and Kieran sleeping in the day room. John and Arthur heard it as well and with guns in hands they went to open the door. Dutch was standing on their porch, looking very filthy, his proud stallion covered in dirt.

“Hello boys,” he greeted them nonchalantly. It was still a powerful voice, the same that they were ready to follow to death once.

“What the hell are you doing here?” John asked, angry and confused. “How did you find us?”

Dutch smiled, looking behind them where Mary-Beth and Kieran were shuffling nervously, trying to listen but at the same time staying in the shadows.

“Is that how you welcome an old friend?” he asked and nodded at the guns in their hands. They should’ve put them away, it was just Dutch, but they didn’t want to. They were feeling safer that way. And with everything that Mary-Beth and Kieran told them, they weren't willing to risk being unarmed. Dutch was unpredictable now, even more so than before John and Arthur left.

“That’s how we welcome unannounced guests coming to our home in the middle of the night,” Arthur answered calmly. He couldn’t help but feel a prickling, cold sensation on the back of his neck. Something wasn't right.

“I’m a wanted man, couldn’t exactly visit during the day.” Dutch chuckled, unamused. “I have to say, you have a nice place here,” he admitted, looking around briefly. “Is this where everyone went after they cowardly ran? Who else are you hiding inside? Pearson? Uncle?”

The sensation Arthur was feeling became stronger. Dutch was speaking to them in the way that was always reserved for people he was threatening. Calm, controlled, but dripping with danger. He didn’t like it and with the way John was tense next to him, the younger man didn’t like that either.

“How did you find us?” John repeated his question.

“Asked at the ranches around the city. You aren’t hiding very well.”

“We’re not hiding, we’re living,” Arthur pointed out the difference. “We’re done with hiding.”

“You should’ve stayed,” Dutch told them and grinned, spreading his hands wide. “The heist was a success.”

“Susan is dead,” John reminded him. It frightened them how little Dutch cared about that, he looked indifferent.

“She picked the wrong side,” he explained simply. “We got the money, we survived. If it weren't for Sadie, who let herself be followed by Pinkertons because she was brooding about Charles getting shot and insisted to help him-“ Arthur clenched his fingers around the gang. “-then everything would’ve been fine. We would’ve been gone.”

“What happened to Sadie and Charles?” Arthur asked, his voice tense and filled with dread.

“They betrayed me. Everyone betrayed me.” Dutch was getting angrier, he was now walking around a little, stomping with every step. “First they work with Indians behind my back then they try to talk me out of our biggest job. We was so close to being free, boys, so close but they ruined everything.”

“Where are they?!” John shouted, furious, and worried. Their friends could be dead already.

“Dead I hope,” Dutch answered without any emotion in his voice. “They arrived in the camp after the robbery, claiming that Micah was a rat. That he sold us out.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that was true,” Arthur murmured, making Dutch smirk.

“I trust, Micah.”

“And you fucking shouldn’t!” John growled at him. “What did you do with Sadie and Charles, speak up already.”

“Last time I saw them, I was shooting at them and they was running away. They could be anywhere but with Charles' arm slowing them down, I don’t think they went far.”

It wasn’t as reassuring as Arthur hoped it would be but at least they knew Dutch didn’t kill them. But he tried to. He tried even though Sadie and Charles didn’t do anything wrong, they were trying to save everyone. He tried to kill people that were nothing but loyal. This could’ve been him and John. It still could be, Dutch was looking at them like he didn’t know them anymore, like they weren’t his sons for the past years.

“What are you doing here?” Dutch still didn’t tell them that.

“Same as those two, I suppose,” he answered, nodding at Mary-Beth and Kieran still hiding behind John and Arthur. “I need some place to lay low before I can move again. I'm going to Mexico with Javier, Bill and Micah. We split up.”

So he came to them, to the traitors, he was that desperate. They would let him stay during normal circumstances. If they didn’t know that his horrible plan got Hosea and Lenny killed. If they didn’t know he scared away other gang members. If they didn’t know he didn’t care Susan was dead, that he maybe even killed her himself. If they didn’t know that he tried to kill Sadie and Charles.

If they didn’t see in his eyes that he would even kill them if it came to that.

“No,” Arthur answered.

Dutch blinked at them, surprised. “No?”

“No,” John confirmed. “You gave us your blessing, we started a new life, we won’t let you ruin it by bringing Pinkertons to us.”

“I gave you shelter once, boys,” he reminded them, angry. “You owe me this.”

“We paid our debts a long time ago, helping you through the years,” Arthur hissed, taking a step forward towards him. He would’ve taken another if John didn’t stop him by grabbing his arm. Arthur was glad for that “We owe you nothing. Especially after what you’ve done.”

“And what, exactly, have I done, Arthur?” Dutch asked through gritted teeth.

“You get Hosea and Lenny killed,” John answered for him. “Hosea was telling you not to go for the bank. You didn’t listen. And Lenny was just a kid!”

“They knew the risk.”

“Did Susan know one when she was killed in the camp by one of her own?!” Arthur screamed, fed up with all this pain and worry and now also with Dutch coming to them like nothing happened. “You changed, Dutch, you made people run away from you while you were always drawing them in!”

“They betrayed me!” Dutch argued, his face red with anger. “All I needed was a little faith! We could’ve been on a boat heading to Pacific by now but everyone decided to be cowards. Even you ran away, Micah was the only one who stayed by my side!”

“And look how that turned out!” John joined the screaming as well. “We didn’t betray you, we were loyal till the end, you let us go!”

“And that was my mistake, you ungrateful inverts. I wasted years to teach you everything I know and now you won’t even help me. I should’ve let you starve to death on the street and you get hanged.” Dutch spat it with such hatred it went straight to Arthur’s heart. Hearing something like that from a man who once was like a father to them, hurt like a bullet tearing through his flesh. He never thought he would hear such words coming from Dutch’s mouth.

Part of him was telling him Dutch was just angry, that he didn’t mean that, but Arthur didn’t care, intentional or not, it wouldn’t matter, he said that and now they would never forget it. It hurt knowing that his father regretted saving their life all those years ago. Regretted everything they went through. How did it come to this? When had he changed?

“I guess you should,” Arthur said sadly, choking on his words. “We gave you all we had.” Arthur shook his head, feeling tears gathering in his eyes. “No more.”

“Just go,” John told him, shaking with emotions. “Go and don’t bother us anymore. Please.”

Dutch watched him for a little longer. It was hard to tell if he was regretting his words to them already or if he ever would. He didn’t apologize or said it was a mistake. They were his mistake right now and he let them believe that by leaving without a word.

They watched him ride away and when he disappeared into the night, they returned inside the house, feeling tired and empty. Mary-Beth asked if they needed something but John just shook his head for both of them and with his arm wrapped around Arthur, he led them back to the bedroom.

They cried till they fell asleep exhausted.

First few days after Dutch’s visit were tough. They still remembered his words, all day, all night. The pain started lessening eventually but they never forgot the words, they just became numb to them. It would always be with them but they could live with that. They had a life they wanted, it wouldn’t be right to waste it on the past.

They didn’t know if Charles and Sadie survived until a few months later. After Pinkertons ran after Dutch and the others, and the local police stopped being paranoid, they visited Saint Denis to look for him and John but found only Abigail and her new husband. She was the one to point them where to look.

Arthur and John were thrilled when they saw their friends alive and unharmed. Sadie and Charles told them their side of the story and it only made Dutch look even crazier than the night he visited.

After a few days of stay, the duo left, promising they would be writing. They were bounty hunters now.

Arthur and John stayed in Hagen’s Orchard. They put a new fence, converted the boat house by the river into a house for Mary-Beth and Kieran that were still living with them. They didn’t mind, it was good to have some of their old friends with them. And when Arthur finally built himself a stable, Kieran was happy to help around the horses while Mary-Beth busied herself with writing her first book.

With horses to take care of, John began to be photographed alone more and more. Arthur knew he could leave the horses in good hands, he trusted Kieran but having his own stable was something he dreamed about sometimes while still in the gang but he never thought he could get it. Now that it was real, he had a hard time not being around horses all day, caring about them and just riding. Sometimes he just enjoyed a day on the pier, fishing till dark or when he couldn’t stand a young and enthusiastic love happening behind his back in the boat house anymore. Kieran was moaning so goddamn loud.

John didn’t mind working alone, he grew confident around the camera and had no problems posing without a partner, for various photographers, not only Jeremy. Even a photographer from Amsterdam took their photos and carried them across the ocean. 

Maybe one day he would get back to being photographed regularly, if he wouldn’t be too old by that time – that was John's advantage, he was younger, he would stay pretty longer – but for now, he was happy to join occasionally, usually when his horses were involved in the session.

Arthur often liked to get back to the memory of that one day in Saint Denis when Dutch picked him to watch the post office. One little meeting changed so much. And only because Arthur was bored out of his mind so much he looked like he was ready to kill someone.

“You think too loud,” John mumbled into his chest that was used by the younger man as a pillow.

Arthur chuckled and gently brushed his lover’s hair, making him purr and nuzzling closer.

“Sorry, I’m going to sleep now,” he promised. It was already late and he had a client in the morning, wanting to breed his mare with Arthur's stallion.

“You better, if I’ll be looking like a ghost for a session, you’re taking my place.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he admitted. As much as he loved working with horses, he missed being photographed as often as in the past.

“You can always join me, I'm sure Jeremy won’t mind,” John suggested and moved his head a little, sleepily looking up at Arthur. “We could be sheriffs together.”

“I guess I can leave Kieran with the work for a day.”

John smiled and lifted himself slightly to place a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thanks, Art,” he whispered sweetly against Arthur's lips before pinching him suddenly in the side. Arthur hissed. “Now go the hell to sleep.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Arthur apologized, laughing and getting comfortable, with John doing the same till they fitted together perfectly. “Love you, darling.”

“I’ll love you more if you go to sleep.” Who knew over a year ago that John Marston would be so passionate about being photographed and having his regular beauty sleep. Not saying anything more, Arthur sighed content and closed his eyes, letting sleep take over. “Love you too,” he heard a few seconds after.

He opened his eyes again and saw John smiling.

Arthur smiled back and fell asleep, content .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight years later, John and Arthur hear about Micah Bell being dead, killed on top of Mount Hagen. Agent Ross never found the one responsible and the boys lived happily ever after at their Orchard as local celebrities, with Charles and Sadie visiting between jobs.
> 
> What a ride! I'm so glad I could write this and made my wife's idea into a reality. Thank you all for stopping by to read and leaving kudos and comments!


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